Daily Democrat, Volume 1, Number 22, Decatur, Adams County, 5 February 1903 — Page 2

THE DAILY DEMOCRAT. EVERY EVENING. EXCEPT SUNDAY, BY L.EW ca . el_l_l Nl o h'a tx/i. SUBSCRIPTION RATES. By carrier, per week 10c By cat rler. per real ... $4.00 By mail, per month . “ 25’' By mail, per year.. $2.50 Single copies. Two Cents’ A<! vcrtisimr rates made knowiupn application - . J. H. HELLIR, MaNageb BIRMINGHAM PICTURES. They Were Mere Paper, but They Subdued the Artist rarner. Turner, tlie gr at landscape painter, was a curious mixture of parsimony and generality, determined money grubbing and unreckoning devotion to his art. lie would, drive a haul bargain one day and the next retuse to sell at any price. Intending purchaswere sometimes excluded U’om bis gallery, aifd the pjfusßj of admission was communicated ip anything but a jxflite manner. Mr. Gillott, the wealthy pen manufacturer of Birmingham, o»ee proved Jiiuarili equal t > the task of storming the castle in the teeth of the gru I Ist and his doorkeeper and achieving a bargain. A book on Ttimer gives the story. Mr. Gillott was met at the door of Turner’s house by an old woman, who «pened the door and asked the gentleman's business. “Can’t let ’e in!’’ she snapped out, when he tofd her, and tried to slam the door. But Mr. Gillott had put his'foot inside* tlie doof and without waiting for permission pushed past tlie enraged, janitress anti hurried upstairs to the gallery. Turner met him like a spider wtiose web has been invaded. The intruder introduced himself and said that he had come to buy. “Don't want to sell!'* was the an- . swer. “Have you seen our Birmingham pictures, Mr. Turner?'’ inquired the visitor, as calmly as if he had been leceh’ed . as a gentleman should be. “Never heard of 'em,” said Turner. Mr. Gillott took from his pocket some Birmingham bank notes. “Mere paper,” remarked-Turner, who evidently enjoyed tlig joke. “To be bartered for mere canvas.” sahl tlie visitor, waving hjs hand to indicate the paintings on tlie walk His tone—perhaps also the sight of the “mere piper"—conquered Turner, and when the visitor dej arted lig had bargained for several valuable pictures. THE MISSING FOWL. Am E’. jorle- <■(* With An •bmentuiiaded DngliMli Artist. Wills invited me to dinner one afternoon when 1 met him in the "Strand. 1 accepted, reminding him that as he was d lie had better make a note of the evening. As lie hud no paper in Ids pocket be wrote the date on his shirt cuff. When the appointed evening arrived I went to his studio. The door was opened by RVills. and 1 could sec that he, had forgotten al! about the appointment. "All. old fellow.” he exclaimed. *do not bo too hard 0:1 me. The cuff went to the wash, .-.nd the date with it. But there is a fowl ju the pot boiling here.” continued .Mr. Wills. “Just come in and wait a few minutes." I had my m* givings, but walked inside and sat down upon thw only chair wot crowded with paint, brushes and palettes. After waiting for about twenty minutes, feeling deucedly bun- 1 gry. I groaned. This had the effect of reminding Wills tint I was present He exclaimed in a dreamy voice, "The fowl must be boiled by this time,” and oomihg forward be lifted the lid of the pot and peered inside. “It is very edd,” he remarked, "but I cannot see the fowl. Extraordinary I No one has been here, so the bird cannot have been staien.” Well, the long and short of it is that a week or two later I called again at the studio, noticed a peculiar odor and discovered the old fowl wrapped up in a piece of brown paper. "Ah!” snid Wills, “now I know bow it all hap petted. When the fowl was brought in there came a smart visitor—Lady G.— ■ about sittings for her portrait. I must have thrown the fowl behind n canvas and forgotten nil about it. But now. •Id fellow, do shut up!"—London Mail. The Parse*. The I’arsee, untrammeled by his surroundings, Is seen in Bombay in all bis wealth of height and dress. The men sire, without exception, tall, finely formed am! stately and assess a ro bustness and beauty quite nt contrast With their Hindoo neigiiltors. Their street costume is a peculiar long white cotton gown, wide trousers of the same material and color and a tall miter shaped hat. They have a general reputation for sobriety, frugality and sagacity, mid they seem to thoroughly underatand the accumulation of fortunes, in this respect resembling the Hebrews. The wealthiest residents of Bombay are Parsecs. An Ancient Greek Helle. As it memorial of their victory In their flnnl and desperate struggle nr I’alaten to burl back the Invading -ast the ancient Greeks made a tripod from the golden cups of the Pershins' table and the bronze of their soldiers' armor It bore on Its sides the names of every city whose soldiers fought and fell In the supreme moment of a nation's life That tripod still exists at Constantino pie. a national relic which has endured longer than the states whose deed. It consecrated.

Q^O-C-O—O—C-00-O-O-O-O-O-O ■ I FATE AND MRS. | hIAGI'IRE f 1 • By M. LOUISE CIVAIINS £ I I Copyright., 190“, by the ? I Y S. iS. Met lure Cmnpany V d’-o-o-c a-o-o-i 1 Mrs. Maguire looker! up from her knitting a flbeond tijge to meet the .same pair of brown efsG t Again a «■ of « hl l>„ 4 . >-,Ut over her. "And, s ire, there'd be nothing straaga i in that,” she soliloquized, “after me , 1 being attendant in this waiting room for the past fifteen years.” Neverthi less her mind went back gropingly trying to place the girl sit- . ■ ting opposite. She gave a quick glance ( and reached what she sought with such suddenness that she fairly start- > ed ’ “ ’Tis the very wan—the very wan,” she mattered. "But, Lord love us all, 1 what has changed her so much?” Presently she rose, holding her knit1 ting-iu her left lend. and made a little ' tour of the room, picking up a paper here, straightening a chair there, apparently intent only upon her business. •i But she paused m ar the woman who had attracted her attention. ’ I ” 'Tis tiresome work waiting for ma’ . sh< hazarded. "It is. indeed!” At sight of such woe in her eyes, which she had oribe st en fl ■ d with such blessedness of joy that, as she said, “they were like twin lights on an altar,” Mrs. Maguire’s heart ached. "Though there's them that don’t mind it,” she went on. ."Look there now,” with a sidelong nod to where in the outer waiting room a young couple ' were seated oblivious of time and place. “They makes me think of a pair that sat in that very spot—let me see, it must be all of four years ago.” she 1 continued reminiscently. “They had missed their train and had to wait six mortal hours for the western express. Well, if you’ll believe me, I don't think they knew ’twas as many minutes." Mrs. Maguire saw the hands of the woman come slowly together suddenly hi her lap. “Did you ever see them again?” site i asked slowly. “Not her.” The dark eyes came round in a flash. “And him?” , “Well, as sure as you live”—Mrs. Maguire had seated herself and was knitting complacently—" ’twas only last week. He come in and .fust sit in that very spot. I toot; no notice to him*at first, but he looked so broke up I bad to. It seemed al! wrong to see him sitting without her.” The woman at her side sprang up. " It is suffocating in here!" she panted. Then she sank back into the chair. “You recognized me,” she said wearily- 1 “And if I did, a-lanive”—Mrs. Maguire laid a soothing palm on her knee, 1 the soft crooning o£ her mother tongue rO F ■ "i I ; OS v >; »ill J 3 J W wji $ ' Li'S;’® S 3 v WPWk I, “wait, sib!” sub pasted “fob the LOVE OP HEAVEN. DON’T OOl" eommg back to her —"l meant no harm by wliat I said. Sure, when 1 looked across the room you made me tblnkof a bit of a primrose you’d see in a boreen at home wilting because tlie Lush that sheltered it was tore away.” “And 1 thought”—her slender body seemed to contract with the agony of recollection - "God help me, what I thought was not the truth.” "'God help us all when we begins to doubt the wan that’s dearer to us than our heart's blood. “ ’Tis well to be sure.” she wont on slowly —“sure before you spake the word that can’t be onipoken.” “If some one had said that to me then!” Her breathing seeiiled to tear the delicate throat. fßut 1 would not llst“n tu him, and now—now it is t* late!” “ ’Tis never that,” Mrs. Maguire snld, with conviction. “It is. He said If I left him it would i be final.” • If Mrs. Maguire's fingers flew, her thoughts went nt such bewildering puce that she started when her com I panton rose. She took and patted be- ! tween her own the hand held out to her. looking beyond with unseeing I eyes. "She'll come back,” she thought, with the nssiirniicp of one who knew. “And he, Mother of God! Isn't It the pity of ’ the world to see them parted? And for nothing nt nil, most likely!" It was strange after that, on days

> when a slight figure in dark blue sat In j the ladies’ waiting room, how many ex- ’ euses Mrs, Maguire found for excur- ; sions to different parts of the station. J with what eagerness she set out on j these expeditions, and with dejection ' written in every lim: t .of her comely ! Uee when she returned. > j 'Tis watching for him she to her- ) self.” she thought, meeting the wistful ' interrogation,of the dark eyes. And | never did maiden look for the coining ■ l of her lover as did Mrs. Maguire for ■ ! the tall figure which had imprinted iti I self on her memory. It was n matter of genuine imi'orj tance, however, which called her away 1 one day just as her visitor entered. “I’ll be back in a minute. 'Tis the superintendent himself wants me,” she explained, smoothing down, a snowy i apron in a little bustle of excitement. Half an hour later in returning she : passed by the long line of tracks. A ctiiwd surrounding a woman whose I dark head was covered with a cotton handkerchief attracted her attention, and she drew near. "What's the trouble. Mike?” she asked a uniformed feltoW countryman. “Tbim dagos.” Mike jerked a thumb ; over one shoulder. “Wan of thim lost ! his mother, and nothin’d do the young j divil but to skrewge through the gates j and fry to cross the tracks just as No. 57 was pullin’ in. If ’twasn’t for that gintieman there, there’d be one foreigner less to grow up in the eountliry.” • Mrs. Maguire turned to look al’the tall figure. One glance was sufficient. A moment later she was hanging to bis arm with all the pressure of her 175 pounds. “Wait, sir!” she panted. “For the love ' of heaven, don't go!” He looked down, amazed. “Oh, I'm not mad. don't you think it.” I And indeed the gray eyes raised to his were wonderfully sane behind their steel rimmed glasses. “She's in there,” Mrs. Maguire whis- , pered. "She! Who?” “Herself—the little girl you married four years ago. Oh. didn’t I see you? Sure, 'twas little else I did that blessed day but look at the picture you made. The curse of the Almighty on whoever | came between you, for sure you must , have the kind, brave heart to do what you just done.” • * The man paled as lie had not done when looking death in the face. “Go!” Mrs. Maguire gave him a push toward the waiting room door. “She's in there, I tell you, aiting her heart out for a sight of you. And,” grasping him again, “don't you say a word, but just take her along home.” As his broad back disappeared Mrs. Maguire laid hold of a newspaper stand for support. A, few minutes later when, with flushed cheeks, she passed, humming a bar of “Eileen Aroon” above a lump which threatened to choke her, they ( were sitting where they bad Mt f»ur years before. "Dear,” he said huskily, his head I bent over hers, “that we should meet here—it was fate.” "And Maggie Maguire," added that worthy woman as she entered her own domain.

Snubbed the Prince Consort. Commenting on the slights that were put on Queen Victoria’s consort. Prince Albert, Sidney Whitman says: "The prince consort brought to Englund ideas of his princely prerogative from Ger many which did not accord with those to which the English aristocracy were accustomed and all the less so since many English noblemen thought themselves c. bit as go id as G< prince. One morning Prince Albert joined the meet of the royal buck hounds. All were awaiting the arrival of the master of the hunt in order to start the bounds. The prince consort ordered the hunt to begin, and this was at once done. Shortly afterward the master arrived nnd, henring what had occurred, ordered the hounds to be called off and, turning his back upon the pa.ly, galloped off without further ado. Prince Albert rode back to Windsor and complained to the queen, who shared his indignation. She sent for Lord Palmerston, who was prime minister, and insisted that he should immediately call on the master of the buckhounds to resign. The prime minister replied that it this was her majesty’s pleasure he saw no alternative but to place his own resignation, as well as that of all his colleagues, in her hands. The queen, therefore, for the time being at least, had to condone the slight put upon her husband." Malay Running “Amok.” "Amok" Is a religious fanaticism a madness under which a man makes up his mind to kill any one he can until he himself is killed. Drought on by drink or religion, or from whatever cause lhe process Is the same. The madman seizes bls creese and rushes headlong down the street, cutting at every one he meets To any one who has seen a creese or a parang further detail is unnecessary. A man running amok is as a dog with hydrophobia, but the panic caused by the former Is by far the worse. Like the mad dog, the madman is folloived by a noisy rabble, who sooner oi’Wter run into their man and exterminate him. When this vengeful rab- 1 ble is made no of bloodthirsty Malays 1 and Chinamen. Its wild rnge and fury ’ are beyond control, beyond description I he clamor nnd blood curdling yells of the pursuing crowd and the ever nearing shout of “Oran amok! Oran amok!" are Incidents which can never be forgotten by any one who has seen or heard them. The bravest quails when suddenly turning the corner of a street his ears are greeted with the cry of "Oran amok!" nnd n few yards off be sees a Malay running strnight nt him, brandIshlng |n his band the bloody creese with which bo bus already slaughtered i all lu his way.

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NATIONAL PHANTOMS I GHOSTS THAT HAUNT THE UNITED STATES CAPITOL. 1 Story of Specters That Stalk at When the Halts of Leu Illation Are (. u»o».iy and Demerted, na Told by Gue us the Old Guard*. I.’ ' : "t re; ■■ ■ -iif .1 stores, j the ancient man who has spent decI ides as a guard in the capitol in Washa i Ms uarratory riches without a struggle. "Its unpleasant to be iuade a mock . of by the skeptical." he protested. "Do ' you believe in ghosts, young man?” "If answering in the affirmative beti'.- ;.n inuo'otitig tale. 1 r. turned i the writer. "Well, starting cn the premise that you do believe to son e extent :u the supernatural, I will admit you to my confidence.” resumed the old guard, ■ and here goes fur the authentic yani of the spooks that hauut the nations ‘ capitol: "In the long, monotonous watches of the night innumerable are the spooks I hobgoblins and the eerie, vapory I things which glide from the shadowy nooks and cram, s <,f th., im- : a nowhere to people the Capitol’s vast Stretches of ,| u .. 0f,,,, ... , know of the extraordinary acoustic freaks which obtain in manv parts of the great building-bow a wldspe- a breathed word at one particular point is audible at another scores ot feet distant? Yes. Now, at r.ight these amus . tic spirts simply go mad. Where thev by day were pygmies they expand into giants, and a whistle, a sudden sound a footfall, resolves itself into a pan' demonium v ■ Weird, terrifying noises beat upon the eardrums of the watchmen a , t L v pursue their lonely patrols through t'w seeming miles of corridors, and then the spooks, the shades of the nation’v great the astral bodies of those that tolled in obscurity for the nation’s good dodge the watchmen's step grand and awful in their dignity some creeping humbly about in apologetic silence, some lati-f inXr^ K ' bUta,lof ' ! -^ i The old man paused to muse “Do you know." be sai into his own reverie explosively Avb -’3 is a date dreaded bv manv of h capitol night guards? it was o- n " <Uy, in 1848. that John WnX Ad ’ ? i died in the chamber of the hor '« representatives. ~w . where the exact spot is r > Ii * brass tablet. ITomptly TX V on every anniversary of his ■ S , bt rt J ?" n QUI " Cy A - I ’>n‘"X'rs In a sort of phosphorescent l-U this brass tablet. Oh " nave seen it from tin,,. time as L and I can refer you to , > them for affirmation of my ns '“o' 7 of "Once over the spot the shade ? to gesticulate, after the mnai? 11 . 1 "’ member addressing the bouse T ° h * all of a sudden, the fine face h, Tb ‘ distorted and agonized th! bt ‘ < ' o ' , “’" 7”'“« down sinks the shade wl h movements of an expiring the tlie phosphorescent glow nX! rbpD ”. d , oaw la ami wX '.j pr “ flop, clump, flop.' 7 invt mu lUmp ’ fails departing down or? 00t ' vacant corridors. r the lon k 1 ‘‘Stranger than this is tt,„ u the enure congress of 1848 whWh’ ° f Pears In vigorous if spooky’ s2,± n,> cry once in awhile In ev ’ old ball of representaum L ? V 1 1" previously remarked. inaXi* bav ° •Plrlted. are the debates en but the bursting point of vLi nergeti<: to the silent political dl S se UK '‘ I “ ence Rr « voked by a doubtlug & ° ’ Pr °- ber of the capitol °wX* mr. ago made affidavit th.^e V S

seen this ghostly congress in session. Yes. be was a sober man and true. "The si ct Gen- :W1 J. I u A Logan is a frequent visitor at the capitol. Almost every alternate night at half past 12 o'clock this ghost materializes at the door of the room occupied by the senate committee on military and militia. Silently the door swings open, aud out steps the looming and luminous preswee. to stalk in stately dignity away Into the swallowing gloom. This is a favorite phantom with the • then to tin si !• of Vice President W dson, who died in his room in the senate end of the capitol. you will recall. Its peregrinations are few and desultory. When it does come, there is always an expression of concern and i * the | face. The movements of the vapory body are restless aud hurried. I 41 - Ot the night watch are well acquainted with ' , , never fail to salute it. although, truth . to tell, the shade remains haughtily in- 1 different to their deference. This spook ' rarely fails to put in an appearance 1 when the body of a dead legislator or • I renown to lyta* in state in the capitol. Deep in the subcellar vaults spooks i of lesser magnitude revel in hordes. ' Immediately beneath the ball of representative every night is to be found a tai. erect, gaunt specter, whose idem ti y has remained a mystery for yes re ‘ spite of unceasing efforts on the Pnrt of the night watch to uncover ° rigi " aud it/tran«,. b4Dd ! are clas > , « J behind clutch baCk 1,1 “ clutch and the face evinces a eondiuZn o, ir Wo,i0 “’ prodi ß'"us|y wrought by guards with rubber s-.| t , 0D their bu7 fa P, Catd ' Wrai,h uuaware. f « • r/ the ‘“variable result A tittle Dinner >. ta!‘“ "™ p ~»“ "Peak of their • heard them , meat breakfasj" Yrt" t o ?" rCbett * ' “•’Ut this deli, -ate /‘l,’ , *>up. beef. p,te Li> , " , ”' rs, ”‘ a,p ' but it was i b Ill,t M-hat. 1 aud Wl foliowet’, then ro f , “” Ck kidney. fowl, ‘ resaen. j k'recn peas with so B " <ha,,l l>ngne. Which the w a ter w" “ n '’ '■ h< ‘V"'>ll. 1 fore a !«■ To this n.<« the v7” " >al Venison ’ a quantity of ’ , u "" " on| a» added •bread upon bread" fiip," 1 "”* thkk| y **‘*e<-*U each of th., r *" P tbc ,lIUC '"8 out the quarter of !‘X?t by H ''° op ' o«: cherries. st r ,«i arg '’ m, ‘l (sponge cakes, , berrle *' biscuits < Inn r en ° U,b for un f< * terminated the n r ; a,l<l ,ben «*' tween her and her fri Whlch ' **’ balf u bottle of w u e '” t ’ tl, °y had only they diluted with o’ 2 aoU *’ but Abernethy’s rule, a t ' deflan< * <»f *«ter. Os everythin’, i ’ K " llon of the woman had two thirl” nt,on «l m «at have followed • ° H ’ ““Pletion *uch matter. They’l7,?“ WIU My ’ Xo "A their linger, wi l( ., u'’ v “ rwl) ' Wu "h 7 1 u " t<x>k their W,Op,e ’ ,,nrt ’ drllle "ct lust for! 11 J““ la, ’ w . lu • QuaTh « ta'n'w'Cdre' Cllmaxvllie fren" “' b, ‘ '■”lo"' l over ’ ■ fJ . seemed to i„. Station, b o wax anally W. h mi nr ” '*o bre!'^ 1 ’ ' V “ b * wl "k. ' ."•flldti't come out t b of U1 here Jut t° mak,. ’ o grub and aturve, I D »« bouse Th y . brwller -lobn ’ * a « ’o .teat thing b"e 1 ’hole «, uu|y of j j 1

land and sell her off t 1 lie’s SIO,OOO ahead ft. .. 1 west, John is. and still J “Your brother John is «J rusher,” observed the colon, | “And bow about you: “Don’t make any mista’iit J The first thing I did was to pl county treasurer and go' 1 cent in the t>ox. and if tl.t. ti durin’ the next two n . . I twelve miles of that river .-I fur SI,OOO a mile T„, ■ I as pioneer pile: t ' 1 in pertlcklfr to Time Waa Objen I A shrewd old farmer Harvey wns apprem hei I; .1 breexy young niuu whows<«il cubators. The liwn Bar. rj the story, says that t - .-J Uncle Harvey the usual ments—there wa< not anotte■ • cubator to bo f< | remarkably low. and soon I Uncle Harvey ,1.1 notw>i| yourJJr man talk 1 .-1 made, no impression. Final’ Jl "You don’t seem to appre.fM cubators." “No,’’ said Uncle Harrer "But just th!::': i ilie -• -’j save!" Uncle Harvey gave hit. m and said, “What do you - • 1 fr,r a lien’s tp. THE COOKBOOK-i To prevent egg, from Ul they are boiling I'.ireapia saucepan. If you get. too much • ' - u pinch of brown g ” saltness without hurting th 1 H the least. When onions are of tre*twij to be pleasant for saiuv with them, but remove it W”! the onions. Never fry more than m once unless you have a wry -J tie of fat. If more urec,« J «<>ak grease and take a ■’ brown. Don’t forget that mi ® great deal lietter to I" m ten days before it i- to > Kpices and cider, ,'te ha'> :: per, olate the apple ■ ’ men Pc-nnut salad is an ex'” 3 paniment for roust due! h*“ of peanut meats in olivetuix lightly with two cupfs ’ cut celery and a doz, I 1 Serve with mayonn:ii«c di"’’ T tuce leaves. Plea For the W«n4« ‘‘j “We have wisely tai.,sandals.” says a I’failadoip si cian. "I hope that Itefon' learn the advantage of . shoe, <>r sabot. Do you great many diseases are d* shoes, due to the wearing :l of tight leather that i* nf’’ weather, water soaked■' ' f know that by the wearing' . shoes, which keep the f'* l which do not 'draw.' a ll ,l ' 1 ' z might l>e avoided’: I ■ pairs of sabots, and so b 8 '* J and children. They ><■•' J cents n pair mid k<s|> 1,1 ‘J without crampitu* J' ,J them iiiiheii’liily tend,> the wisest thing Anieti'" 11 " j would be to take up 'l'” ’’‘,l the sabot, discarding iu l ''’'' shoe of leather." _ — Comparlsnna Ars Perkins, Jr.-Why ~l horse of Seth’s, pop? lk " P Pwllgree. Perkins. Br.-Pedlgree !•» Is he wuth inching? ’ j them sasslety foU-s what In the summer ijas ped l8 ’ 11 * •JO Use. t *