Democratic Sentinel, Volume 7, Number 13, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 27 April 1883 — Page 1

THE DEMOCRATIC SENTINEL. A DEHOCBAfiO NEWSPAPER. g — ' a PUBLISHED EVERY FRIDAT, James W. McEwen. BATES OF SUBSCRIPTION. .. ’ ; . ' ' iV- ' ~ tw* .* One year fI.SO Six months.... 1.00 Three months .....* 50 AJTArirer iwlng rates on arn’lleattan.

OVER THE WAT. BY MARY LAWTON. The sides are gray, and o’er my head I hear the pattering raindrops fall, And in the chimney ghostly tones Of nnns remorseful seem to call. And I am scribbling for my bread. But often eyes unruly stray To windows high above the street Where lives my neighbor o’er the way. A pretty winsome lass she is— A tender heart hath shejl ween. For every morning on her sill The sparrow’s breakfast I have seen. And by that sill she’s sitting now; Batins and silks and tinsels gay Surround her while the needle flies— What fascination o’er the way? Bnt when the evening comes, I know. No lamp will light my lady s room, And I, neglectful of my book, Will sadly watch the gathering gloom. And long to see her where she is— A player-queen in fine array. Art restless breath her gilded crown. My little neighbor o’er the way 1 When clad in ginghams, can she guess, Playing her morning’s homely part, Bhe has an audience whose applause Splits not his gloves but rends his heart? For who she Is l cannot tell, And what I am she cannot say— My little saint, wilt thou e’er know Thy John-a-dreams across the way? —The Continent.

MY FRIEND FITZGERALD.

I I am a little fellow with insignificant shoulders and legs not worth considering. I have no talent, and no distinguished eccentricity. My manner, what there is of it, is timid and awkward. I know that mankind as a species does not regard me at all, that only mercenary motives restrain my tailor from expressing his contempt for me. There is nothing more to say about myself, except that I have no imagination, whicn may serve to substantiate the facts I am about to narrate. My friend Fitzgerald Avas my antipodes. He was tall and strong and winning. His name betrays his nationality, and his nationality furnishes the key-note to a happy, fun-loving nature. For six years, at school and at college, we were close companions, and then for four years we were separated. I, being by lucky accident rich, traveled for improvement and amusement; Fitzgerald Avorked for his living. He chose to be an engineer—l say chose, for whatever he had set his mind to do he would do brilliantly. When I had got round the world back to my point of departure, I found Fitzgerald about setting out for the northwest of Canada, whero ho Avas to conduct a Government survey. He expected to be absent at least two years. Since coming home had meant little more than coming back to him, this plan of his filled me with disappointment. When he suggested that I should accompany. the expedition X agreed joyfully. The day before that fixed for our departure he came to my rooms, looking nervous and excited: Feigning not to notice his perturbation, I began running over a memorandum of things to be done. He interrupted me sharply. “Look, here, Jack, I Avant you to go out with me ot 3 o’clock this afternoon to ,” mentioning a small town some twenty miles distant. “We will get there at 4, leave again at 5:30, and reach home in time for dinner. ” My time being precious, I objected. “Do it, Jack. The matter is of vital importance to me. ” An appeal from Fitzgerald Avas irresistible. I agreed at once. At 3 o’clock I met him at the railway sta- ' tion. We had been ten minutes on our way when he said, abruptly: “Jack, I am going to be married.” “The devil.”

My emphatic expletive echoed through the car, and then he added: “I should not feel quite right about it if you were not there, and that is how I persuaded Emily. Beside,” he continued, after a short pause, "I want you to see her. It will be much to me during two years of separation to have some one near me who. has seen her. ” Then, the gates of his confidence being opened, he plunged into lovers’ hyberbole. I listened silently, my hat Blouched over my eyes and my hands thrust deep in my pockets. I could listen and at the same time mentally review the years of our friendship. It had been ray habit •' to scoff—an envious scoff, of course, at his love affairs. I knew now that the time of scoffing was past, and I realized (with more than a woman’s jealousy—l confess it) that his love for his family would endure, and henceforth be the guiding influence of his life, whether for good or ill. On arriving at our station Fitzgerald went at once to the ladies’ waiting-room. He returned with a young girl on his arm, whom he introduced to me as Miss Emily Gordon. I shook hands with her vigorously, and stretched on tiptoe to get a nearer view of her face, for she was very tall. As I stared at her I chilled with disappointment—not a vague sentiment, but a decided opinion, that the face was not worth what Fitzgerald would sacrifice for it. The face was fair and finely featured, flushed just now with excitement. The eyes were dark, and though their wavering regard was childish and pretty, and, under the circumstances, to be expected, that it was which made my heart sink. The restless glance struck me not as a trick of the moment demanded by the situation, but as expressing undesirable characteristics in the woman. There was not a gleam of the steady, spiritual light such as it would have pleased me to see in the eyes of the woman who was to be Fitzgerald’s wife. They were married in a Methodist parsonage by a very old man, and the marriage was witnessed by the clergyman’s wife and myself. Mrs. Fitzgerald insisted on ■ her husband’s taking her marriage certificate, affirming childishly that she would surely lose it. She had left her home that morning with the avowed intention of visiting friends. She was now to proceed on her journey, and her train would leave twenty minutes before ours for the city. I shook hands with her at the parsonage Kte, saying with elaborate tict that I d always longed to pry about this peculiarly interesting town. She was crying and dinging closely to Fitzgerald. She held my hand a moment. “He is going so far from me, and two years are so long! You will bike 4 care of him. Promise me—oh, promise me!” “I do, with my whole heart,” I answered, and turned away from them. Hiked her better. The tears and the sob in her voice had touched me, almost won me. My dull senses were partially wakened to the attractions which such a creature might have for a man of strong passions and imagination. If it had not been for that first wretched impression, I should have been in love on the spot with FitzgerWe were on our way home when he

VOLUME VII

praised her in the Ijpst words I conld find, and thought I was acquitting myself well. Fitzgerald’s hand fell on my shoulder. “What are yon saying, Jack? You are a* cold as ice, ” “Yon forget. You are at fever heat.” “Then what are yon feeling?” he burst out irritably. “What are you thinking that detracts from her?” ... Iliad been coldly thinking the worst of her. I was startled into an unequivocal answer. “I am thinking that she has not the strength to appreciate you, or to be true to you. lam fearing that nothing but ill will come to yon of what you have done to-day.” I expected that he would turn upon me furiously, but he did not. His face lost its color, and he said, as if reasoning to himself, not in answer to me: „It was her own wish. I would have trusted hee without any pledge. It will be strange if she does not regret this day, yet X stake my soul that she never will.” I said to myself: “He has given her his best; surely that cannot have been unworthily bestowed.” I dug a grave for my doubts and suspicions, and tried to cover them deep.

ii. We were in winter quarters in a canyon es the Frazer river. We had no mail for several weeks, and toward the end of the year we concluded that there were a noble army of martyrs and an accumulation of mail-bags beneath the snow-drifts which stretched almost unbroken for a hundred miles, the distance to the nearest post station. One day, after a week of almost uninterruptedly fine weather, the welcome messenger arrived—arrived on his low sledge drawn by eight sure-footed dogs—arrived in hot haste, with bells jingling, and frost-powdered beard, and bright eyes gleaming out from a frame of furs, for all the world like a belated Santa Claus.

Fitzgerald, as usual, opened the bag, and I knew by his puzzled look that the letters eagerly expected by him from his wife wero missing. He kept apart from us all day, but in the evening joined the group round the fire, with a pipe and newspaper. There was a youngster in our party whom I knew was fully informed of the love of Fitzgerald and Miss Emily Gordon—as far, that is, as the affair had been gossiped over by his mamma and her Avomen friends. When this youth, buried in a home paper, whistled shrilly, and shouted,“Say, Fitzgerald, here’s a nut for you!” I felt certain that he had bad news of Fitzgerald’s wife. “What is it?” Fitzgerald asked, indifferently, not looking up from his paper, “About that stunning Miss Gordon—the girl you were such spoons on. Do you remember ?” Fitzgerald took his pipe from his mouth. “I remember. What about her?” “ ‘lt is reported from Rome that Miss Emily Gordon, one of our fairest daughters, is to marry the young and distinguished Count Mondelia. The wedding is soon to be celebrated in the Holy City with great eclat.’ ” I wondered how Fitzgerald could quietly listen to this announcement, read in the most deliberate manner, i could barely refrain from getting up and yelling. My astonishment increased when, having asked for the paper, he carefully re-read the item; then taking his great fur coat, he left the room. In a few minutes I joined him, and we walked to and fro together on the hardpacked snow before the shanty. “You see, Jack, I must leave at once.” “Yes,” I acquiesced; “I suppose you could not rest here.” Then I protested: “Fitzgerald, let her go. She is weak, faithless, unworthy.”

He repeated my adjectives with ev£ dent perplexity. “I" see. Your old injustice to her. You misunderstand. The case is as plain as daylight. This Count dances attendance on her; her parents encourage him; people talk of them together, and a wholesale manufacturer of lies—a newspaper correspondent—sends idle gossip to America as fact. She is the victim of a persecution. They may have discovered our Becret, and prevented her writing to. me. How far away is she? Not miles, days—ten, twenty, thirty. I shall not rest till she is safe in my arms, for she is my wife. You know it, Jack. They may marry her to a thousand Counts, but she is my wife.” Feeling that the moment was not happy for the presentation of views, I presented no more. I agreed to all the absurdities he chose to advance. The next morning he announced to the camp that he was going to Fort Garry to consult some engineers, and would probably be absent about two months. I was to accompany him, and undertook to prepare for the journey. About noon an Indian runner came in on snow shoes with an extra mail. There was one letter for Fitzgerald, and the handwriting was that of his Wife. I sent the letter to his private room. In about half an hour I knocked at his door, and he said. “Come in.” He was sitting before a table, leaning on it with folded arms. As if anticipating and wishing to evade inquiry, he said, “I suppose you have been getting things ready.” “Yes. We can leave at any minute.” “I am undecided about going now. I think I will put it off until to-morrow, at all events. lam sorry to have given you so much trouble.” “Just as you please,” I said. “I am indifferent.” “What a good fellow you are, Jack,” he said, standing up and looking at me. A casual observer might have thought his face only pale from overwork or want of rest. To me it was dead, like a fine portrait without any light in the eyes. I thrust my hands in my pockets and shuffled my feet, overcome by the embarrassment which words of sincere kindliness always excite in me. “Can’t I help you ? Tell me something to do for yon,” “The kindest thing you can do is to let me alone. ” I sidled to the door. “Do go, Jack,” he burst out, impetuously. “I can’t bear to have even you —” Before he could finish the sentence I was oh the other side of the door. I felt that Mrs. Fitzgerald’s letter had merely confirmed the newspaper report. If the marriage, which had been but a legal form, could be annulled, I suspected that Fitzgerald would do it. I had no doubt that he would scorn to strike the woman who had wounded him mortally. When I fell asleep that night all my suspicions and beliefs had merged into burning her, and a determination gome imperishable ill >

The Democratic sentinel.

I fell asleep with this one ides in my brain, and I was wakened from that sleep by a cry. “Jack! Jack! Help! help!” My senses were penetrated by the voice of a man in great agony, crying for succor, crying to me, and the voice was the voice of my friend Fitzgerald. I tried to-lift myself from my bed bnt a heavy weight held me down. I struggled to speak, but my tongue was tied.. I rubbed my eyes, but the lids seemed glued. At last they parted slowly, and I saw that of which my mind has never lost the slightest im?ression. I was not lying on my bed; was not in the low, square room, with half a dozen men sleeping about me. I was standing on the river’s brink, several miles below the station, standing there alone in the awful stillness of a winter night in the wilderness. The moonlight was so brilliant that every object was distinctly visible. I saw not twenty feet from me a break in the ice, and the blue water bubbling up clearly. Above the water rose a man’s fair, strong head, and two hands grasping, trying to lift the body beneath up to the ice, which broke and crumbled away from their touch. He was dying before my eyes, and 1 could not stir an inch to save him. I saw the beating of his hand grow feebler and the tension of his face relax. “Spare her, Jack!—spare her!” he cried. I was silent.

Then once again he cried, and that sound I think will always echo about the world with me: “Speak to me. Give me a sign.” I forgot my hatred of her and my resolve to hurt her; I was sensible only of his pitiful pleading. By a great effort I flung up my right arm as a sign of acquiescence. His hands fell, his head sank backward, and the blue water sparkled and bubbled in the moonlight. I shouted, “Fitzgerald, Fitzgerald 1” I seemed to spring forward, when the whole scene was transformed. I was sitting up in bed, and the watch by the fire was saying, drowsily: “What’s the matter? What are you making such a row about?” “Where is Fitzgerald?” I said, looking round, and seeing that his place in the row of mattresses was vacant. “He went out about an hour ago. He said he couldn’t sleep,, and was going to skate up the river to Thompson’s Station. ” I got up slowly, and the motion was painful, for my whole body was numb. I spoke with hesitation, as if the power of speech was new to me. “Fitzgerald did not go up the river; he went doAvn .toward Carter Station. He has been drowned six miles below.” My shout had aroused most of the men. They all exclaimed incredulously that I had been dreaming. I stood my ground, and was already getting ready to go out. The dogged persistence of such a matter-of-fact fellow as I impressed them, and they prepared to accompany me. When we reached the river we put on our skates. We could not distinguish tracks, for we had recently been skating a great deal, taking advantage of the clear ice, rare so lata in the season. I led doAvn the river, the others following, laughing at my expense. Soon the infection of my profound hopelessness spread, and in ten minutes all were skating swiftly, silently toward whatever awaited us. When but a sharp headland lay between us and the spot I had seen in my vision I halted. “He is lying just beyond there. If the ice is broken we shall know. ” We rounded the point in line. The ice was broken and thrown up in pieces and the water still bubbling. I have not much more to tell. It was afterward discovered that he had struck one of the shallow springs on a sandy bottom which never freeze solidly. The water would not have covered him standing, but the numbing influence of the intense cold and the frailness of the surrounding ice had prevented his saving himself. I offer no explanation of what I have said that I saw and heard, but six men can testify that, when miles away from him, I saw the dying face and heard the dying words of my friend Fitzgerald, and that I led them to the spot- where they found him. He had left a letter for me in his private room. He said that he was going to take legal advice and find the quickest means of rendering void the mar--riage ceremony I had witnessed. He asked me to look after his traps, and assured me that as soon as- he felt able to take up old associations he would let me know. As I read this letter I cried like a girl.

In his pocketbook I found his marriage certificate and the last letter she had written him. I carefully dried both, and as carefully read the latter. What a weak, miserable cringing effusion, characteristic of the writer 1 Pages of alternate whining and bullying, ending with this paragraph: “If you force'any claim, the courts will set it aside. That would make a scandal, and I have never been talked about, and I should be very nervous under disagreeable talk. It would be very unmanly and underbred in you to to give me such trouble, and at least I have always considered you a gentleman.” I swore that she should have cause to be nervous. I knew that such a woman could not be wounded, mentally or spiritually, and that the blow must be struck at material comforts. I left the station immediately. From the first telegraph station I reached I sent a message to Miss Emily Gordon.to her Roman address: “Fear nothing. I will arrange as you desire.” I signed Fitzgerald’s name. ‘ **„.;*, A month afterward I was in Venice, in the hotel with the Count and Countess Mondella. On the night of my arrival I made a package of letters beginning “My. hm»band,” with a variety of tender qualifications, and signed “Emily Fitzgerald.” With these I placed the marriage certificate and the last letter. I addressed the package to the Count Mondella intending that the next morning it should be put in his hands. I went to bed feeling comparatively cheerful. My sleep was but a repetition of the sleep in which' I saw Fitzgerald die. When I cam© to my senses, I knew that I must spare her. I did not doubt then, and have never doubted since, that the repetition of the vision was the work of an excited brain, but the impression was so vivid that I felt myself bound by an oath to the dead to spare her. I re-addressed the package to the Countess Mondella, and ortjered my messenger to deliver it into no hands but her own. So with my own hands I deprived myself of the means of aveng-

'Si-/*/ -fj Q? *'r ■*. ‘ • RENSSELAER, JASPER COUNTY, INDIANA, FRIDAY, APRIL 27," 1883.

diction to my own insignificant rage and vindictive desire. I saw her once in the corridor leaning on the arm of her husband, beautiful and triumphant, with her false eyes flickering still: ,1 wondered then why such a woman showered on her the gifts that the world hold best, and why a man who, bv the mere chance of living in it, made tlie world better,, should be lying -dead in a wilderness, heart-broken and murdered by her.— Harper's Weekly.

A Plea for Tobacco Smokers.

Few things give such full returns for the money they cost as does tobacco to the smoker. Money is only valuable because it, can be exchanged for something else. We cannot eat it, bnt it can give ns delicious dinners. The castaway on a desert island would starve though he had millions in kegs, if his gun did not find him means to satisfy his hunger. Money is not beautiful. It decorates our houses, but we must go to the shop first. If all the smokers were to stop smoking, and the tobacco money wentto the Government, we could wipe out the national debt and have enough money left to engage in a new war, and create a new debt that our immediate posterity might not be left without that blessing. If there were no smokers, and the money spent for smoking was not diverted, we could feed the poor. Equally so oould these benefits be accomplished did we refrain from other costly habits and use onr means strictly as philanthropists. I would not gainsay these truths. It cannot be argued that evil to others results from smoking. Men have drunk, have gambled, have speculated, have eaten themselves and their families into poor-houses, but they have never smoked them there. As money is only valuable for what it brings, the smoker spends wisely. His tobacco is useful to him. It is his ally when the blue-devils attack. Without it they would conquer him, and he would be unmanned for the struggle with adversity. It is a friend always there, always ready, never questioning, never refusing. It does not, like liquor, encourage only to throw its votaries afterward into despondency. It does not honestly serve one minute and guide to destruction the next. A smoker is the aristocrat of the tobacco army. The snuffer may defile his person, the chewer may be odious to his surroundings, but the true smoker is disagreeable never to common sense. He has no use for the spittoon ;he is not a spitter. He is happy in self-gratification, and he confesses it. His sin but extends that far: Smoking has been censured as an encourager of tippling; but all smokers are not drinkers, or are all drinkers smokers. There is no real connection between the habits. — Progress.

A Premature Decision.

The Superior Court was in session in one of the loAver counties of the circuit, and the solicitor, Avith the counsel for defense, were engaged in the selection of a jury for the trial of a man charged with murder. As usual in such cases, some difficulty was experienced in obtaining a jury, and the court was getting tired of such tedious proceedings. “Call the next juror, Mr. Clerk,” said the solicitor for the hundredth time. The clerk called out the man, and an old man with an honest face and a suit of blue jeans clothes rose up in his place, and the solicitor asked the following customary questions: “Have you, from having seen the crime committed, or having heard any of the evidence delivered under oath, formed or expressed an opinion as to the guilt or innocence of the prisoner at the bar?” “No, sir.” “Is there any bias or prejudice resting on your mind for or against the prisoner at the bar ?” “None, sir.” “Is your mind perfectly impartial between the State and the accused?” “It is.” “Are you opposed to capital punishment?” “I’m not/’ All the questions had been answered, and the court was congratulating itself on having another juror, and the solicitor in solemn tones said: “Juror, look upon the prisoner—prisoner, look upon the juror.” The old man adjusted his spectacles, and peeringly gazed at the prisoner for fully half a minute, when he turned his eyes toward the court and earnestly said: “Judge, I’ll be condemned if I don’t believe he’s guilty!” It is useless to add that the court was considerably exasperated at having lost a juror, but the more humorous inclined had a good laugh out of the old man’s premature candor.— Elberton ( Ga .) South.

Boasted Dog.

An ex-soldier, who was captured during the late war by the Confederates, relates the following incident of prison life on Belle Isle: One afternoon in December, as some eight or ten of us were sitting on the ground within our tent, in gloomy silence, a pretty, little fat dog of the terrier species came into the tent. We knew sjbhe dog belonged to the Lieutenant commanding the prison, and was highly prized by the owner. Being a great friend of dogSf I, without a thought oi harm or wrong, called the dog to me. While holding him by the gold band his neck, my ears caught the words, “Kill him; let us eat him.” A glance at the cadaverous faces of my companions convinced me that doggy’a doom was sealed. Gladly would I have spared him, but, knowing that he would never get out of the tent alive or unhurt,' also being fully aware that il the dog was hurt and yellfed all in the tept would suffer even to death, my resolve was quickly taken, and instantly my long, bony, skeleton fingers clasped his throat, and the struggle soon ended in death to the dog. With the aid of an old jack-knife he w*s quickly skinned and dressed, the hide and gold band buried, a little fire kindled inside the tent and the meat roasted and eaten.

Had Heard Grandpa Mention Him.

4 bright little girl was listening to her mother, who was reading stories to her, in one of which the name of his Satanic Highness was given. “Mamma,” she exclaimed, “who is the devil?” “Why, my child,” the mother answered, hesitatingly, “I can’t tell you exactly 1” “O well, never mind,” was the interrupting exclamation of the little one; “I’ll ask grandpa. I’ve heard him mention him!” Gainesville, Ga„ has a dog to every

-A Young Doctor’s Mistake. Discussing a physician named Jones, Blifkins undertook to relate how the medicine-man had once made a great mistake, as follows: Old Noxon used to have a row with his wife about three time 3 a week. He got cranky and made np his mind to shuffle off so he filled np with landannm and went to bed. The old lady went to screaming, and as fast as the neighbors came in sent them off after a doctor. Some of them went in one direction, and some in another, and it wasn’t long before the doctors began to congregate. Smith got there first and looked the old man over. “Dead,” says he, and went away. Then Brown came in. “Dead, ” says he. Jones' was the third one in, and he rammed a stomach pump down the old man’s throat and pumped up the drugstore. Then he reversed the action of the pump and flooded the old man with water. After sloshing him around for a while—same as if he waiPrinsing out a cider barrel—he pumped out the water and flooded him again. Noxon wasn’t in the habit of taking so much water in his’n, and pretty soon he began to gasp and kick. Before morning Jones had him all right, and went away feeling that there was one first-class doctor in the world. A few days afterward he presented his bill. “What’s this for?” says old Noxon. “For saving your life the other night,” says Jones. “Well, I didn’t ask you. I never employed you, and I’ll not pay it. You’d no business coming here and jamming your old pump down my neck. Brown is my family physician, and I’ll not pay anybody else. ” So away went Jones to Brown’s office and tried to get him to induce old Noxon to pay the bill. “Jones,” says Brown, looking out over the top of his spectacles, “I never thought you was a bad sort of a fellow, but you’ve done a very foolish thing, and it serves you right to lose your bill. It’s a good lesson to you, and I hope you’ll profit by it. Didn’t I say he was dead ?” “Yes,” says Jones. “Didn’t Smith say he was dead ?” “Yes,” says Jones. “Well, that settled it! The man was dead, and you had no right to say that he wasn’t. When two old, experienced doctors, like Smith and I, say a man is dead, it’s unprofessional and discourteous for a young man, a beginner in practice, to dispute their word. We’ll forgive you this time, because of your youth and inexperience, and will hush the matter up for you, but be very careful in the future and make no more such mistakes!”

The Slanderer.

Compared with the malicious person who never commits himself by a positive statement, but who simply insinuates, the open slanderer is an admirable person. You knoAv with what you have to deal. A direct falsehood can be met by as direct a denial, and a statement committed to dates is liable to destruction through counter proof; but an insinuation has no tangible basis for the struggle, just as no one can catch and pinion Proteus. We are all subjected to this kind of persecution, and some seem to be fatally open to victimization of this deadly character. If scoundrels who stab in the dark had a visible mark like the snake’s hood and rattle, so that there could be no mistaking the genus, what a blessing of warning to the community, if but a sorry kind of mark to the individual himself! Perhaps, though, if sure of detection, he'might reform, and take to truth and honesty of speech by way of h pleasant change from his present crooked mode of living. He would be welcomed if he did, and might find love more valuable than abhorrence, sympathy and companionship more valuable than estrangement and enmity. For such people are rarely loved; men instinctively shrink from them.

Judging by the Noise.

On one occasion in the Senate David Davis put a motion to adjourn to the Senate, which was voted upon without a division, that is, without calling the roll or without the Senators rising to be counted. Said he: “Those in favor of the motion of the Senator from to adjourn will say ‘ aye ’ ” and quite a number answered “aye.” “Those opposed to the motion,” said Mr. Davis, “will answer ‘no ’ ” and about the same number answered “no” with a little more vigor. “The ‘noes’ seem to be the loudest,” said Mr. Davis-, “but the cliair is in doubt whether they are the strongest or not. The chair will put the question again.” This fime those in favor of adjournment had, apparently, a large majority, whereupon Mr. Davis said : “The ‘noes’ were the loudest, but not the strongest. The Senate stands adjourned until to-morrow at 12 o’clock,” and the Senators dispersed amid boisterous laughter.—Washington Critic.

A Poor Artist.

A pretty girl had a bashful artist for a sweetheart, and he never would come to the point. One night, after he had made a desperate attempt to test her feelings, she looked at him in a very significant way. “What do you mean by that?” he asked with a startled look. “Do you profess to be an artist?” she replied, evasively. “Yes.” “Do you think you are a good one?” “I flatter myself that I am.” “Well, I don’t think so.” “Why not?” “Because you cannot even draw an inference. ” He did though, and now that girl supports him by taking boarders, and thinks he is a poorer artist than ever. — The Drurrfvier.

King Hay.

The statistics of the United States prove that hay is among the foremost crops raised in this country, if not the very first. At the present time there are estimated to be in the United States 40,000,000 sheep, 40,000,000 cattle, and 20,000,000 horses. In two-thirds of the country these animals require to be fed from three to five months, and they will consume an aggregate of 90,000,000 tons, which, at $5 per - ton, represents the enormous sum of $450,000,000. Is not hav, therefore, king? “There is nothing like settling down,” said the retired merchant confidentially to his neighbor. “When I gave up business I settled down, and found I had q’dte a comfortable fortune. If I had settled up I shopld pot

DEMOCRACY.

As Expounded at the Ire quo is Club Banquet, iu Chicago. Speeches of William F. Vilas and Garter H. Harrison. Col. Vilas. There most be a change, and a great change—achangeof sentiment and a change of methods. The controversies and passions begotten of the war are things of the past, useful only in their teaching of errors to avoid New ideas, new purposes, new issues and new political associations are before ns. Mr. President and gentlemen, the change has already began. To your credit and honor, the keynote of that change, most fruitful to our hope, was sounded at yo.ir banquet last year, and resounded with cheerful melody in the elections of lavt fall. To overthrow the gigantic forms of error and wrong which have Intrenched and fortified, almost unobserved, for these twenty years, will require the concentrated energy of all the be-t of every political complexion. There must be political association to unite them, without animosities to prosecute or revenges to gratify; its face set forward to do the mighty work incumbent on the people of to-day. All philosophy and reason te cb that its germ must lie with the patty in onposition, for the evil is roo ed in the party in administration. But its blossom and fruitage will spring from the hearts and minds of the whole people. Y ur conference last year invited recurrence to the teaching of the fathers for light and inspiration on the path ahead. It is the dictate of wisdom. It willTcvive a party of the people, instant and zealous to demand and secure thel rights and privilegea The count y needs renewal of the faith and doctrine ’ f the oldDrmocr cy of Jefferson Now, as then, it is adequate, and noth ingles*is adequate, te maintain c nscitutionai liberty. Now, cs then, it will prove the road to happine-s and piosperity. We want it, 10 defend against the nation’s most intiuiou* peril, centralization of power unnecessary to the c unmon welfare of the Union. We want it, to reform our civil se - vice and restore honesty, canhbt ity and fl e ity to supremacy as quaiincati ns fpr office.” We want it, to give again purity, ih. tegrity, umpli ity and economy to the administration of Government. We want it, to suppress the tyr nny of “bossism” and open the ways of political ervice to self-respect-ing manhood; to put a period to the canting Pecksnifflanism in office, which so long has openly prated virtue and secretly practiced iniquity, and give us again the plain and sturdy servants of t -e olden days, who are what they seem. We want it, to stop the plunder of officeholders by assessments, and to put down that secret treason of distrust which resorts to corruption os better than argument to win the judgment of the people. We want it, for its equality and philanthropy, for its broad faith and intrepid confidence in humanity, for its love of justice to all, for its abhorrence of class favoritism in legislation, taxation and administration. There rest the principles which must animate and sustain the people’s cause in the tremendous contiictimmedfately pending. I need hardly name it No man can longer shut his eyes to the open fact There must and will ‘be aggressive and relentless war against the dominion of monopoly and the oppression of iniquitous taxation and unjust lawa Many forms of this tyranny beset us. But one overshadows all the rest, demands the earliest redress and challenges the greatest effort. Its long, felonious tentacles have bound their prehensile grip upon every mode of primary production, every source of wealth. They are fastened upon all parties, all classes and conditiona It is a 6onspiiacy against the people, so comprehensive that every community holds its agents, so potential that Congress has obeyed it for more than twenty yeara There stands the enemy, there lies the battle-field, and there the battle is at hand! I give you joy in the prospect of it! The foe is sturdy and defiant From their ramparts of riches, piled in menacing mass, the lords of the tariff proclaim their purpose and power to maintain ihat sum of financial villainy, protective taxation. With skillful ingenuity they have lightened other burdens to make this more secure, and they fill the air with sophistries. The simple question is; Is it right, or is it wrong? For, if wrong, it robs the industrious, wealthproducing workers of this country of more than $50.C0D,000 of iheir earnings every year, to fill the chests of a favored class. If wrong, it is a stupendous wrong. All the doctrines and Iraditiohs o Democracy, springing from the soil of liberty, cry out against it. It is heresy, false andperntciouß, that our millions must labor in forest and field, in counting-room and office, to maintain any class of manufacturers, under pretense of pampering any form of industry. The spoil enriches only the few masters, enervates labor, and (trikes enterprise with paralysis. With every material native to our soil, our manufacturers, with profitable adventure, ought to fill our own shipp, manned by our own hardy seamen, with products for every buying country on the globe. Bub what do we see? Our exports are mostly from the farm and mine, carried in the ships of free-trade England. Our manufacturing industries, fitted and limited only to our fictitious market, with prices upheld by force of legislation, are in a state or intermittent fever, now stimulated to overproduction, then gasping with stagnation, while the excellent avocations of shipbuilding and navigation, which ought to furnish manly industry to hundreds of thousands, languish in decay. The tariff iB a form of slavery, not less hateful because the whip is not exposed. No free people can or wid bear it There is but one course. The plan of protective robbery must be utterly eradicated from every law for taxation. 'With unflinching steadfastness, but moderately, without destructive haste or violence, the firm demand of freedom must be persistently pressed, until every dollar 1 evied in the name of Government goes to th e treasury, and the vast millions now extorted for a class are left in the pockets of the people who earn thp money. Resolute to defend the sacred rights of property, we must be resolute to redress the flagrant wrongs of property. God forbid that the rights and liberties of this people be laid at the feet of Mammon! It matters not that this controversy shall divide present houses or break the bonds of past association. Such distresses must nob be set in contrast with the welfare of a great nation; they must not stay the demand for justice of a mighty people. Nay. they cannot. Nor any curbs be long applied. They only bind up wrath to burst in greater violence in a day of wrath! There is fearful menace to peace and happiness in the spectacle of injustice with its foot upon the necks of men. Who can fix his contemplation on the glistening splendors of our future without a pang lest our responsibilities undischarged shall sprinkle the robes of liberty with Blood or hamper her limbs with chains? Plant the old ’standard of constitutional Democracy and beat the long roll 1 Summon the hosts of liberty and set your ranks in order! If any fear the battle, send him to the rear! If any will not serve God, but prefer Mammon, give him safe conduct to the enemy! Invoke in the house of counsel the faith and philanthropy of Jefferson; bring again to the Held the daring alacrity of Jackson! And in the sunlight of onr nation’s destiny, go “where Democratic principle leads the way" to fight the people s enemies and win the people’s victories! Mayor Harrison. Political philosophers, in searching for the origin of government, trace it back to pater famil'as, to that authority which the father acquires in rude society over his children and their descendants. Taking human nature as our guide we have a right to believe that such a theory is true, but, after ad, it is the imaginings of men that give such origin, and does not come from a historical or traditional narration. Our earliest knowledge, as portrayed on the pages of historfy, s ows us well-defined nationalities, a strong Government, whose rulers c aimed to govern by reason of the possession of divine attrib ute 3 . Victoria signs herself Queen of England and Empress by the grace of God Here in America, however, the rulers of the land govern by the will cf the people If we were to follow down to the earliest ages known to history, through the long successive ages down to the present; in sf 1 other countries than America, we will find that either legally or by prejudice or tradition men have held office not in trust for the gov erned, but as the custodians of Che pcs tiona which were attached to the pxe ogatives of the crown. Here in ft ee Am- rica, however, no such tradLiocs exist, and »U men concede that the offices are of .the the officer is » servant of the people, bound

NUMBER 13.

to obey them as his sovereign, with no rights inherent to his office higher than the right he holds as a citizen, and that the office itself and its powers are for the people and their good. This is certainly true theoretically, and yet to-day parties battle against parties,orators thunder in the ears of others, not for the high principles of government, but for the privilege of dividing the spoils of office and of making the spoils as rich as possible, and the labor of office as right as is consistent with its holding. But a little while ago a man crazed with the greed of office stamck down a President, made a madman by the howlings of the newspapers over the division of spoils won by party success Newspapers talk of the principles of the Government, but the dispatches from the seat of Government daily, filling the r newß columns, are full of lists of appointments, amd of the dissensions of Senators and Representatives among each other over an appointee to a postoffice, a cust un-house gauger, or some other paltry position United States Senators meet in the State capital, gather around them the magnates and Legislators of a State, discuss and arrange, into the small hours of the night, not the principles of government or the policy of the party to which they are but the equitable distribution of the spoils among their adherents, with an eye to the perpetuation of a Senatorial toga on the one or the building up of the hones of the other for a Presidential candidate I said a while ego that, theoretically, in America officers are the servants of the people, while in England men yet held to the traditions of the past that offices are the prerogatives of the crown, yet ip Ensrland the office holder is the servant of the people, while in America he is yet the people’s despoiler. The Democratic party, the birth of whose founder in America we are this night celebrating, has ever held that man is capable of seJf-goveminent, and that the office-holder is a servant of the people; that a publio office is a public trust Thomas Jefferson, when asked for the appointment? of an officeholder,- inquired if he was capable, if he was honest, if he was true to the constitution. To-day a President of the United States, or his advisors, makes no suoh inquiry, but de- - mauds what he did for his party at its last election, or what he will ao for it at the next. The mission of the Democratic party is to restore the Jeffersonian principle, and to have men in office who not only acknowledge themselves to be but are In fact the people’s servants It is a singular thing that, while the United States Government may have 70 OOP to 100,000 office-holders, that while these 70,000 to 100,000 are bat a handful compared with the 25,000,000 or thereabout of people who support the successful party, yet these 70,000 or 100,000 so blind the people that they get wild with excitement over the chances of patronage, and a delegate in a national convention assembled can boldly stand up and ask “If it is not for ■ the offices, then in the name of God what is tk'e'convention assembled for?” and this inquiry, which ought to have driven suoh a delegate with com empt from the convention's door, makes 25,0(a), 000 people applaud him for his outspoken honesty. An easy thing it is to be honest in expression, when ho expression is so black as to bring shame to the face. It has been thrown in the face of the Democratic party that within that party was originated the damnable doctrine that -JO the victors belong the spoils.” Much an expre;-slon may have been uttered by a man Claiming to be a Democrat, but so apt a scholar has been the Rei üblican pax ,v that to-day, in no single Republican State in this Un'on, is there any disagreement over party principles, over the principles of government; but the fight over patri nage is so intense arid hitler that one faction prefers to see the p rty defeat d rather than other faction should hold the pat-onage. If the Democratic party be true to itself and will show whenever a Democratic official gets into a position that such official considers his office as a trust for the people, then the Democratic party may lay down no planks on the tariff, no planks on many other issues, that are now talked of as party measures, but can prom he to the people that th s is a Government of the people and for the peoEle, and not a Government for the officeolder; and with such a promise con win the support of the people. Thomas Jefferson believed that man was capable of selfgovernments He was one of the people, sympathized with the people, and as such rode his horse to Washington on inaugural day; whereas now R publican Presidents, when inaugurated, have to have all the paraphamalia of royalty, with national and volunteer soldiery marching to do them honors, making this Government a Government not of the people with the simple tastes that the people are accustomed to, but a” Government flattering to the rich man and pandering to the vitiated taste of plutocracy. Our present President, ivho holds his office at the price of the most dastardly crime of modern times, when he goes upon an American ship is not satisfied with the bunting which floated over a Decatur or n» Farragut, but must have the stars and' stripes floating over him emblazoned With embroidery and silks. The Democracy wishes to get rid of these things. Democracy believes that the idjli-e-. holder, in all matters of trust, neverthinks of his own interest, but the interests of those who placed their trust in him. JUs, at least, is and should be the true principle, of the Democratic party. The Democratic, party believes that that government i$ the heet’which governs least; that those ;laws* are the most beneficial which incumber the 1 fewest number of pages of the statute books. Democracy believes that the .individual man should” have the largest liberty wnich is compatible with the safety of the others and of the whole. It believes that men should be left as untrameled bylaws as is possible for the safety of the nation. It believes that the funct ons of the Government are exhausted when it protects and fosters the material interests of the-Gov-ernment. It oelieves that the moral and religious duties of the individual should, be left to himself. It believes that when a man enters the threshold of his home he is then in his cAstle and that no minion of the law has the right to invade that castle except when armed with a proper warrant It believes that wherever a man goes the freedom of the home goes with hipi so'iong as he does not violate public decency or infringe up n the rights of others. It believes that personal liberty is as neces ary to the happiness of man as civil liberty is essential to well-organized society. It believes that the laws should not interfe ein matto s of religion, and that the thunder of the pulpit may pour down upon the commission of sin, but that no law guided by narrow-mindedness or fanaticism rhould interfere with the personal liberty of others, who are unwilling to be cut down to fit a t rocustlmbed. Democracy believes in the 1 nguage of Thomas Jefferson, that all men are created free and equal, and that the poorest man in the land, who wields a Sick or drives a plane, is as proud and erect i his lowly citizenship as is the owner of countless millions rolling in a padded chariot or in a railroad palace. Onr enemies say that our party is a party of Bourbon*, and that it learns nothing and forgets nothing; it is the cheap literature of the partisan press but we are willing to acknowledge that in one respect we are Bourbons, though out of power for upward of two decades; like Bourbons feeling the blood of old Democracy flowing in onr veins, though cast out from onr patrimony, yet we ever look steadily aloft, believing in the honesty of the people and trusting to the people, we have never folded our garments about us and laid down in death, Dut have had an abiding confidence in the future, and know that while there is a Lord in Israel and a warm heart in mankind our party must and will succeed. They have talked about tbird parties and told us that we could never win while we held the name of Democracy, yet with unfaltering trust we have held on the chart that Jefferson gave us, and will keep our flag constantly unfurled to the breeze, and will battle until we shall have planted it on the national battlements, ana we will then guarantee to the people a Government of honesty, economy and liberty.

Vibration.

The Boston Advertiser says that it has been well known for many years that when a body of troops crosses a bridge the step must be broken, otherwise the regular tread of such a heavy weight of men will throw the structure into vibrations so violent as to endanger its standing. It is also well known, though it lias not been fully established until recent years, that large buildings have their key-jote, and that factories standing near dams have been put into such vibration by the quivering of the falling water that they have seemed i i actual danger of destruction, so violent has been the oscillatory motion. The explanation is that the particular volume and velocity of the water struck tho keynote of the buMiog, and «jet it is sympathetic vitoatiou.

THE DEMOCRATIC SENTINEL. OUR JOB PRINTING} OFFICE Has better facilities than any office In Northwestern Indiana tor the execution of all branches of fbs FRzwTxzrftr PROMPTNESS A SPECIALTY. -«* Anything, from a Dodger to a Price-List, or from a Pamphlet to a Poster, black or colored, plain or fancy. tar Satisfaction guaranteed.

INDIANA STATE NEWS.

Pnax A Abbott’s stove and barrel factory at Lafayette burned, causing a lose of $95,000. A hew school building and city ball will at once be erected in Wabash, the two to cost •80,0001 St. Joann's Hospital, at Fort Wayne, la to have a 125,000 addition built for ohapel and hospital purposes. PosrorncEs have been established in Indiana at Corner, Sullivan oounty; Wellman, Crawford county. A skeleton In a sitting position was unearthed In a gravel-pit at Connei svllle. It is supposed to be aboriginal Of the 600 convicts In the Southern prison at Jeffersonville, SCO have been vaccinated and are nursing sore arms. Jesse Reitchman, aged 106, died recently in Brown oounty, and was perhaps the oldest man in Southern Indiana Pbof. H. Wiley, of Purdue University, has aocepted the position of chemist In chief of tae United States Agricultural Department New Albany Division, No 5, Uniform Rank K of P., will compete for the 1700 in gold and prize banner at the Southern Cotton Exposition at Louisville. Indiana is one of the States in which the postal reoipts more than meet the postal expenses. It is a close shave, though, as the •surplus Is only $3,806.49. The tenth annual convention of the Woman’s Christian Temperance Union will be held in Greencastle, beginning May 8,1883, and continuing four daya , A laboe number of horses and cattle have been poisoned within the past few days In the vicinity of Pekin. Several horses have died and several more will dte. Mm David Joyce, of Moral township, Shelby county, gave birth to triplets, all boys, the other day. Two were stillborn, and the third lived only one day. The Board of Commissioners of Floyd oounty have made an order for the issuanoe *f $25,000 worth of county bonds, bearing 0 per cent., and running five yeara Allen & Andbbson, twice County Commissioner, Vice President of the Old Settlers' Association and pioneer settler of Brown oounty, died last week, aged 89 yeara The commission to seleot a site for the pew publio buildings at Terre Haute has reported in favor of the property owned and used as a residence by Mr. W. II McKeen. Charles Rutledob, a Rockville photographer, fatally shot George Volmer, a restaurant-keeper, in a quarrel about thq latter’s wife, whose photograph Ilutledgo had been taking. The Crawfordsville Presbytery and the Union Missionary Society of the same district were in session last week at Delphi. President Tuttle, of Wabash College, wjui elected moderator. The father of Postmaster General Gresham was at one time Sheriff of Harrison county, and was killed in the dischaigeof hi* duty while attempting the arrest of a citizen for whom he had a warrant The widow of ex-Unlted States Senator John Carlisle, of Clarksburg, W. Va., was taken suddenly 111 and died the same evening at the residence of her son-in-law, Capfe Sam M. Strader, whom she was visiting in Madison. At Terre Haute one day last week papers were filed for divorce in the suit of Benjamin Taylor va Lizzie Taylor, and in twenty minutes afterward a decree of divorce wai entered. This 1b regarded as the quickest time on record. Dubino the flood a house owned by Orango Graves was floated away and lodged in the road in front of the place of Abram Jones, on the river bottom near New Albany. When Mr. Graves went for the house Jonei demanded pay for catching it At Lawrenceburg the houses which woro washed away in the great flood have mostly been replaced and repaired. The streets now present an appearance even better than before the great disaster. A levea will be built immediately. The Jeffersonville New* says there is a farmer in Clark county who owns over I,BCO acres of land. He can neither read nor write nor make figures, yet, If you buy a beef or fat hog of him, he can tell you quickly to a cent how much it comes to. Richard Stevenson, a demented man, came up behind hl3 brother Aaron, at Ottobien, and, striking him over the head with an ax, spilt his head wide open, causing instant death. There is said to have been bod blood Between the brothera The murderer escaped. The Census Bureau gives some interesting statistics, from which the following ore talj en: The total population In the State who cannot read,lo years of age and over,la 70,008, or 8.54 per cent of the total population. The total population who cannot write, 10 years of age and over, is 110,761. Of these the whites number 100,898; the colored 10,393.

The Second National Bank, of New Albany, received a deposit of S4OO In silver a few days ago from a party in Crawford oonnty who had kept It burled in the ground over thirty years. The coins were all new, and bore dates from 1819 to 1850. The owner of the money was informed that several of the neighbors knew of the hiding-place of the treasure, and advised to remove it before it became generally known and was stolen. Wobkmen have for some time past been engaged in digging or boring a well for the Chicago and Alton Railroad Company about fifteen miles east of Huntington. At a depth of fifty feet they struck pure granite rock, and although they have now reached a depth of 800 feet they have not passed through this strata. The first stone struck was grayish in color, but it is now pure white. Great excitement prevatls in that locality over the discovery. At Evansville Willard J. Tumi, aged 18 year.*, shot Josiq Mondell, aged 6 yeara The statement is made that Mondell, with several children, was in the Dunn apartment playing on a bed when young Dunn told Mondell if he didn’t get oat of the room he would shoot him. Little Joe said; “Ob, Will, you won’t shoot me, would yon?” Tho words were barely out of the little fellow’s mouth before Dunn fired, the ball entering diieotly over the bridge of the nose and between the eyes. There is but little hope of the child’s recovery. Small-pox in the State has become widespread, and it can no longer be concealed that ip certain sections it has become epi-> demio. The Secretory of the State Board oi Health states the spread of the disea e ha i become very alarming, bat that the real extent of its prevalence is not known, as tho afflicted localities are suppressing all information in regard to the matter, and th; local health officers are not reporting all tli<: cases. He is in possession of formatioo, however, io the effect that in many O&tbe towns in the eastern and south era parts of the State the disease is epidemic, beside scattering cases in a number «< “>«■!?<’*,a hmt »•*