Democratic Sentinel, Volume 7, Number 42, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 16 November 1883 — Page 6

THE FIGHT AT THE FORD—A LEGEND OF THE WAR.

Oft I linger at eve by wild Bapidsn’a stream. Ere the shimmer of sunset has melted away From the swift-flowing waters that bask in its beam Till the shadowy gloam shuts the portals of day. "Whils the opaline tints slowly fade from the hill'. And the voices of nature are hushed and serene, Then I love to review a fair vista that thrills Every chord of my heart as I gaze on the scene. ’Tis a spot In whose tranquil repose one may ranse And forttet for a season the tumulrs of l'fe. Yet it marks in its space where humanity’s laws Have been cast in the, vortex of veng.an.e and strife. There grim legions opposing in combat were drawn. And the greensward was strewn with the shattered and killed, In the tight that raged fiercely from midnight till dawn. When the river ran red with the blood that was spilled. Then the vanquished were fled, and the victors remained But to gather the wounded and bury the dead Or of friend or of foe, while sweet Mercy constrained The stern hearts that before by Destruction were led. But at eve all were gone from the Itapidan’s side, Where was garnered the terrible harvest of death, B&ve one spent In the contest, whom none had descried As he lay by the river-marge gasping for breath. In the cause he upheld none more noble than he Met the foemen who left him to perish alone, With no balm tor his anguish, nor witness to see How a brave heart could suffer with never a moan. Though ,he uttered no plaint his sad fate to bewail. There came one in the beauty of maidenhood's form* Prom her homo that was nigh to the deathstricken vale. To weep o'er the scene of War's merciless storm. While the gentle girl grieved for the havoc she found. Yet she moved, as if led by a hand from on high. To the dell where yet living, bnt prone on the ground, Was the form of the soldier so youthful to die. Though the soil of the battle begrimed his wan face; Though linstanched was the wound that bled In his side; With that pity that recks not of person or place, Sprang the maiden to do what she might ere he died. Quick with water caught up in the sash she had From river that smiled on the deed while tt flowed, She laved and refreshed the young soldier forlorn. Till his eyes were relumed with a wonder that . glowed. “Art thou come from yon heaven, sweet angel below?” By degrees his faint voice found the language to say: “Let me bless thee, dear soul, for the joy that I know, « Ere thy presence of loveliness passes away.” “Nay—no angel,” she said, “but a weak, timid maid. Who is glad to behold that your life is still spared— Best content, injured, youth, while I Me me for aid. That you* hurts may' be tended and refuge 0, prepared." Lo! he dveils in the vale, though long years have'aped by, Since the fignt at the ford where wild Eapidan flows— For the soldier once succored, who thought but to die. Has returned to requite what his gratitude owes. And the maiden, no longer a maiden, lo there, Still a guardian whose tenderness days but increase. Who rejoices in him whom she saved from despair— Whom she crowns with her love in the conquests of peace. •-Oscar H. Harpel.

Miss Wickersham’s Romance.

BY M. C. FARLEY.

It was an old/ old hoiwe. Teddy looked up at the many gabled, mossgrown roof, and. the faded red-brick walls with feelings of both anger and Borrow. He was the only heir. In the natural course of events Wickersham farm and Ifctae old ivy-grown mansion, built in Colonial times, would be his own, providing he did nothing to offend his aunt, •the present incumbent. Teddy groaned inwardly at the recollection. For two and twenty years Miss Wickersham had been a mother ito him. If some people declared that iMiss Wickersham had no heart, and was proud and overbearing in disposition and hard to please—her nephew at least had never been made to feel that side of her nature until now. Some six months previous Maj. Willis bad returned froin Europe with his daughter, and settled down quietly at Fern Fields, a tumble-down old manor bouse, which report said was all there left to him of the once great Willis fortune, The Major had lived abroad the better part of his life. His child had been born on a foreign land, and his wife was buried there. Still, for some unknown reason, he had gathered together the remnants of his once splendid fortune, raid, coming home to Fern Fields, was now Miss Wickersham’s nearest neighbor. From the very day of the Major’s return to the home of his boyhood, Miss Wickersham had persistently ignored liim. Fern Fields, she* said, was nothing to her—she wanted nothing whatever to do with the people who lived there, and cautioned her nephew, upon pain of her displeasure, never to have the slightest intercourse with the Willis family. All went smoothly for a short time, when, in some unaccountable manner, Teddy and the Major’s daughter chanced to meet, and Ted fell head over heels in love with her at first sight. What was his consternation to find, upon acquainting his aunt with the turn of affairs, that she suddenly flew into a violent passion and ordered him never to speak to 'the young lady again, ft was all very easy for Miss Wickersham to execute sucli a command, but it was simply impossible for Teddy to obey it. There were stolen interviews and long walks by the riverside, and many -an hour was spent in company with the Major himself, when Te£ found it impossible to inveigle the young lady out of doors. Of course there could be but one ending to the affair. Becklessly Ted proposed, was accepted, and the Major gave them both his paternal Prsdct find happy the young in’au went home to his aunt and told her plainly what he had done, not donbting

bnt that she -would accept the inevitable, with tolerable grace at least, when she found it was to be. But he was appalled at her manner. “If you marry that girl, Teddy, not a cent of my money shall yon ev r have!” screamed Miss Wickersham at the top of her shrill old voice. “I detest the i whole family, root and branch, and there shan’t a dollar’s worth of my property ever go to benefit one of them in any way if I can help myself, and I guess I can.” Teddy’s face fell. It was a bright, handsome, young face, framed in with a lot of yellow hair, that was his aunt’s especial pride though she wap too much overcome with rage now to pay any attention to his good looks. “Just to think,” she went on, in her thin, high-quivering key, “that of all persons in the world, you should select Nellie 'Willis to be your wife. And you know very well, Teddy, what my opinion is of the Willis f .mily—a poor, proud, shiftless set, to make the best of ’em.” Teddy grew very red. . “If rumor is true, Aunt Wickersham, you did not always rate the Willis’ at such a low figure—particularly the Major," retorted he, indignantly. The pale pink that yet lingered in Miss Wickersham’s delicate old face turned suddenly to a viv.d scarlet. She choked, i<nd hesitated an instant. “This from you, Teddy,” said she reproachfully. Directly he had the grace to feel ashamed of himself. “Forgive me, aunt” he cried. “I am a brute.” “Say no more,” said she coldly, motioning him to leave the room, the delicate color in her face having now faded entirely out, giving place to a dull, leaden hue, not pleasaint to see. Once alone, she went to a foreign cabinet that stood in one corner of the apartment, and, unlocking the drawer, took therefrom a small parcel. “It seems strange how the folly of my youth yet clings to me in my old age,” she mused, bitterly, turning the package over in her still white and shapely hands. “I will burn these things. Perhaps forgetfulness will come the more readily,” she uttered to herself, undoing the parcel, and dropping'a bunch of withered roses on the desk. Still, she hesitated, a thousand fliemories of a bygone time, struggling through her mind, and a suspicious moisture dimming the brightness of her proud, dark eyes. “She would only break his heart,” she cried at last, impatiently. “They are coquettes, all—father and daughter alike. Teddy shall not have his .life spoiled by her—the false daughter—of an unworthy parent.” An instant later and she had *flung the little packet into the grate. There was a sudden light puli’ and a strong perfume from 'the burning roses, filled the room. The parlor door was thrown .open. “Maj. Willis,” announced the servant. The room seemed to swim around her, for a moment. She could not have been more astonished to hear a elap of thunder from a clear heaven. A feeling of anger brought back her usual self-possession. “To what am I indebted for this visit, Maj. Willis,” she asked with freezing politeness. “To be frank—various causes. lam here, principally, in behalf of the future well-being of our young people,” replied the Major, bravely. “If you are trying to negotiate a marriage between those two, you may as well know, first as last, that I shall never consent to it,” said Miss Wickersham, ignoring the fact that her visitor was still standing, hat in hand, before her. The Major bit his lip. He glanced critically at his obdurate hostess, as she, too, rose to her full height and confronted him, her face pale, her eyes flashing, and her white ringed fingers tightly clasping the edge of the old cabinet he remembered of yore. It was thirty years since he had entered that house for the last time, as he supposed. He was a young man tfien, gay and handsome, and very much in love indeed, with the angry lady before him. Thirty years. It was a long time, and yet, how well he remembered even the smallest detail of the room. Nothing was changed now, he thought -with a cynical smile, save himself and the little old lady who so ungraciously .received him. Unconsciously the Major fetched a deep sigh. It was evident that, if Miss Wickersham had unhappy memories of the long ago, the dolighty Major also had a few that were not so pleasant as they might have been. “It seems a great pity, ” said he, recalling himself with an effort, “that two young lives should be made miserable because of a mere whim. I called to-day to speak to you about the settlements I shall make my daughter on the occasion of her marriage. I am not rich, still she will have no mean dowry.” “We Avill not discuss the subject of your daughter’s marriage, as it concerns me not the slightest. I have this to say, If my nephew persists in making Miss Willis his wife, I shall execute a will cutting him off with a paltry dollar. My determination is unchangable.” There was the least little bit of an angry sparkle in the corner of the Major’s eye. “Miss Willis will not;, marry for money,” said he, quietly shifting his position a little, and resting his elbow on the low mantle piece. “My daughter’s happiness is my only consideration. ” Miss Wickerham noticed—indeed she could not well help it—what a fine looking man the Major was, in spite of his fifty years. Her heart throbbed a trifle faster as sho-thought $f days long gone past. “But for her dear sakA, ’kcon&nued the Major, “I should not again cro>s the threshold of this house, JRebeceah.” “That ip like a remarked Miss, W ickersham, with biting* f sarcasm, “But I let it rtess. My ndphfew is of agei and wifr undoubtedly do as he likqVitt thistmatter.” Thfe Majhr leaned a little mOje heajtily on the mantle piece, his elbow in dangerous proximity to an old, discolored plaster bust of Franklin. He glanced at it casually, and then remem-

bered with a pang the fast time he had looked upon it —thirty years before. “I shall be sorry to* have Ted lose his inheritance for my daughter’s sake,” said -the Major presently, putting liis hand to his eyes as if to shut out the sight of the room, and the memories it recalled. “Bnt there seems to be no help for it. This being the case, perhaps it might be as well to bring this interview to a close.” Miss Wickersham bowed stiffly. Cold, proud, relentless, she stood there waiting for him to go. “I might argue as successfully with the Sphinx,” thought he, bringing his hand*down forcibly on. the mantle. The next instant the plaster cast toppled over and fell crashing against the old-fashioned brass andirons, and lay shivered in a hundred fragments on the floor. Miss Wickersham gave a little hysterical shriek and flew to the rescue. Cursing his carelessness, the Major stooped down to help gather up the pieces. Could he believe his eyes ? Bight there, with unbroken wafer, was a letter he had himself written, long, long ago. Miss Wickersham picked it up wonderingly, as she saw her own name on the face of it. “It is strange how this note ever came in here,” said she, breaking the seal slowly. The Major had not gone soldiering all those years to no purpose. His military experience had taught him wisdom; and not only wisdom, but patience as well. So he waited quietly until she finished reading the yellow old love-letter. Miss Wickersham was crying now vety softly—very softly, indeed—but the wary Major saw it and took courage. “You must have known how mnch I loved you, Bebeccah, in that past which seems now so far away,” said he, recovering his voice. “After monffhs of hope and fear and anxiety and doubt, I determined to know my fate. I called upon you one day with the intention of telling you all this, but you were not at home. Feeling that further suspense would be unendurable, I wrote that note, here in this room, and,placing it on top of that old plaster bust of Franklin, went away, expecting shortly to hear from you. Weeks went past and yet you did not reply. You know the rest. Hurt and angry, I went to Europe, enlisted, was wounded and sent home to die. I was nursed back to health by a gentle girl, the mother of my daughter Nellie, and I came here, on the death of my wife, to pass the remainder of my days.” “And I have lived all these years believing you had amused yourself by winning my heart only to throw it away,” sobbed Miss Wickersham. “Never !” ejaculated tne Major with energy. “It has been a terrible mistake all round, from first to last.” “That plaster-cast had a crevice in the top of it. The note paust have slipped into it in that way, ” said sh*e, meditatively. < “ Well, Bebeccah, I have waited a long time—thirty years for your reply. 1] must have my answer, ” he persisted. “But we are old now,” objected Miss Wickersham, her heart in a flutter. “The older, the better,” said he, blandly. “My dear, true love is like wine, improved by age.” “But what will Teddy she, faintly, quite willing to be per--suaded, when the persuader was the lover of her youth. “Teddy gives his free consent, and wishes you a long life, full of happiness, in the bargain,” said a voice from the doorway. ‘'And we’ll be one family, after all, won’t we, Major ?” cried Ted, embracing his aunt. “Thank God, we will indeed,” replied the Major. And they were.— Chicago Ledger.

Tall Men and Short.

Fair men may derive some satisfaction from being told, on the authority of Sir Rawson and the “anthropometric committee,” represented by him at the meeting of the British association, that the greater number of criminals are of dark complexion. But dark men may triumph in their turn when Sir Rawson goes on to say that lunatics are for the most part fair; a truth which the late M. Fetcher had probably in view when he determined to present Hamlet in a wig. Tall men, again, will be interested to hear that criminals and lunatics classed together are two inches shorter that the rest of the population; and against this there is nothing in the way of consolation to offer short men except—what in most cases they already knew—that the people of Spain, Italy and France are shorter than those of the northern countries. That tall men, however, are not absolutely perfect is suggested, if not absolutely proved, by the fact as alleged by the spokesman of the anthropometric committee, that among the tallest people in Europe are the Irish. The tallness of the Irish is out of harmony, moreover, with the argument that the shortness of short people is to be accounted for by their having been insufficiently fed, clothed and housed when young. Tue facts and figures put forward by the anthropometric committee are very confusing; and no reasonable conclusion can be drawn from them. This confusion would be “worse confounded*” if, instead of dealing with races the an- ! ' thropometric committee were .to doOi with selected individuals. The German Emperor, Prince Bismarck, Ount Moltke are all tall, and many of the superior officers of the Prussian array are giants. The Duke «qf Wellington, on tlie other hand, was rather below the middle height, while Nelson and Napoleon were decidedly short.— St. James’Gazette. * ' "■( -1 ■ >— tu • m ; Won’t'He * ~ A little grandson t>f was attempting.to build, a tuvjSe-Yegggd stool, when he looke#* up to her aad ... *.« m.# .** <• ■ .said; ttuMf • ■ “Grandma, does Gua see every-, thing?" ~ w ; * “Ices, my son,” she replied, “God is everywhere and sees'every act of our lives.” “Well, by jingo,” said the boy, “won’t he laugh when he sees this stool."—, Carl Pretzel’s Weekly.

Caesar’s Dream.

A queer old Dutchman by the name of Y. A. H. Caesar, who lived in New Albany, used to come to our part of country (Lawrence county, Inch), buy cattle and drive them to New Albany and Louisville. On a certain occasion he bought some cattle of Ari Armstrong, who lived some eight or ten miles from Bedford. Caesar, in taking away hia drove, let one of Armstrong’s calves follow the cattle off. Armstrobg sued the Dutchman and made him pay a very big fine for the calf. Armstrong being a member of the church and a very wealtlMr farmer, the eld Dutchman being few friends; and could scarcely speak English so as to be understood, it was*an easy matter to get judgment. After this, it appears that Armstrong sold the Dutchman some mules, and on delivery swindled old Caesar out of $450. Caesar sued Armstrong, and, seeing how he fared in his former suit, he employed one of the most influential attorneys at the bar, who took a great deal of pains to have justice dealt out to his client. Caesar was not so big a fool but what he could see the prejudice in favor of the rich man, but his lawyer made out lifts case in spite of the prejudice, and Armstrong was obKged to pay over the $450. Caesar wanted to rebuke the court and the church for trying to shield a rich man; so, on meeting a neighbor of Armstrong, whom he knew would tell Armstrong, church and court, he said: “What you dinks, Mr. Tannehill ? I hadt a tream! I tream I been deadt alreaty, und I go straight to Baradise. Mr. Obossle Beter come und say: ‘Who he’s here a ccomin’ into Baradise ?’ End I say: ‘Yohannes Atam Haller Caesar, cattles-buyer son Ni Albany.’ “ ‘What do you want, Mr. Caesar ?’ “ ‘To be angel and has vings.’ Und I goes right in to get my vings. But Mr. Obossle Beter say: “ ‘Stop a bit, Mr. Caesar, we has a charge to you.’ “Mr. Obossle Beter bring der big pook, und look him up unt reat oud lout: “ ‘Yohannes Atam Haller Caesar, cat-tles-buyer son Ni Albany, steal one calf son Ari Armstrong, wort fife toller. Mr. Caesar, you no has any vings.’ “I say: ‘Mine Got in Himmel! What f do?’ , “I tream some more right avay. I tream Ari Armstrong be deat too, und he coom to Baradise, und Mr. Opossle Beter say: i “ ‘Who be’s here a coomin’ into Baradise?’ “Und Ari say: “ ‘Ari Armstrong, rich farmer and member of the church son Lawrence county.’ “Mr Obossle Beter say: “ ‘Walk right in, Mr. Armstrong.’ I say: “Stop a bit, Mr. Obossle Beter, und pring oud der pig pook und I look him und reat out loud: “‘Ari Armstrong, rich farmer, cattle raiser and member of the church son Lawrence county, steal mules from Csesar wort $450.’ What you dinks o’ dot, Mr. Obossle Beter ? ’ He say: “‘Oh. dot’s all right; walk right in, Mr. Armstrong.’ “I say, ‘ Tunder and blixen! How is dot, Mr. Obossle Beter ? ’ Mr. Ari Armstrong’s leetle calf he fines my cattle oudt und he goes mit my cattle off mit himself, und I see dot calf not yet, und I bay Ari Armstrong fife toller for dot calf und for dot I has got notings. Ari Armstrong steal mules son Y. A. H. Caesar wort four hunnet and fiftie tollars, und you say, ‘ dot is all right, dot is all right; walk right into Baradise.’ “Mr. Obossle Beter say: ‘Mr. Csesar, dot man dot do a pig peznis is held in dis court in the udmost respect ! ’ “I say: ‘ Mine Got in Himmel! what I do, dot I may has vings ? ’ “Py shimminy! I gqes pack und steal all der cattles in Hoosier, and dat makes me respectoble!”— Cor. Los Arigeles' (Cal.) Recreation.

Perry’s “Singing Birds.”

Perry was a rich planter in the Patuxent valley, with a broad vein of humor. The broad, deep Patuxent afforded an excellent cruising ground to the British fleet after it had landed the British troops. One day, while the British ships were lying in the river, Perry got a well-filled hornet’s nest, plugged up its openings, put on his working clothes and rowed • up to the flagship. In the uncouth local dialect be offered tho gray ball to the young officers as a nest full of rare singing birds of remarkable voice, of unusual intelligence and warm attachments. The officers clubbed together and offered a guinea for his birds. This ho gratefully accepted and then handed the nest to the unsuspecting young jnen. He suggested to them that it would be well not to open the nest till he got to shore, inasmuch as the affectionate little things might follow their old friend. This was an excellent suggestion. To make sure the officers took the nest into the cabin and shut the doors, leaving a marine on deck to catch Perry’s signal. As soon as Perry felt sure of his retreat on the shore he gave the marine the signal. At the word the officers opened the nest, and, w.thout any unnecessary delay, the cabin door also. With somewhat undignified haste, officers, marines and reamen swarmed to the bulwarks, and fhep ov®r. tho side, in comical confusion ntosely followed by Perry’s affectionate little singing birds. Perry laughed till he cried, as one by one the Britishers sought the cool shelter of “the placid Patuxent. —Washington letter.

Mexican Table Customs.

During eight months’ residence in Mexico, I have not seen a bit of butter, potato, egg cooked by itself, chop or steak, tea, sauce, cake, pie or pudding, or those ordinary vegetables which we consider. indispensable. Napkins are rarely used; each person wiping his o» her face and hands on that portion of the tahje-cloth which is nearest, and .afterward patronizing one of the beforementioned comer wash-stands. Eating with the fork is not at all according to etiquette, but the knife or spoon must be used —or more properly a tortilla. Mexicans manage the latter with as much dexterity as the Chinese does his

chop-sticks, curving it between the fingers till it forms something like a spoon, and scooping up the food with it, eating spoon and aIL The very old people and the lower classes use tortillas altogether, instead of knives, forks, or spoons, the latter being of comparatively recent introduction. It requires considerable practice to successfully manage the tortilla scoop, as I have learned from sad experience. After the meal is finished, and at intervals during its progress if one feels so inclined, the month is filled with water from the goblet, rinsed wit. more or less emphasis between the teeth, and then spurted upon the floor. In this process all beoome expert, from the lady of the house to the smallest child. When fresher water is required that in she glasses is carelessly tossed upon the dirt floor, where it does no harm.— Cor. Indianapolis Journal.

Literary Pseudonyms.

The subjoined list of noms de plume of authors will be found interesting: Pseudonyms and real names. Bora. Died. Algernon Sidney—Gideon Granger.... 1767 182-2 Amy Lothrop—Miss Anna B. Warner..lß2s .... AnAmerican Girl Abroad—Miss Trafton Artemns Ward—Charles F. 8r0wne....1536 1867 Barry Cornwall—Bryan Waller Procter 1790 .... Boz —Charles Dickens 1812 1870 Christopher Crowtield —Mrs. Harriet Beecher Stowe 1812 .... ChrysUil Croitanirry—Sir Walter Scott. 1771 1882 C. L. I. O. (Clio)—Joseph Addison..,.. 1672 1719 Cornelius O’Dowd—Chas. Jas. Lever.. 1806 1872 Country Parson —Rev. A. K. H. Boyd.. 1825 .... Currer Bell—Charlotte Bronte (Mrs. Nichols) 1815 1855 Deldrich Knickerbocker—Washington Irving 1783 1859 E. D. E. N. —Mrs. Emma E. D.(Nevette) Sonthworth 1818 .... Edward Search (2) —Abraham Tucker. 1705 177* Edward Search (1) —Wm. Hazlitt 1778 1830 Ella—Chas. Lamb 1775 1834 EU Perkins—Matthew D. Landon Elizabeth Wetherell—Susan Warner.. 1818 ... Eliis Bell—Emily Bronte 1819 18*8 Ettrlck Shepherd —James Hogg 1772 1885 Fanny Fern—Sarah Parton 1811 1872 Father Prout —Francis Mahony 1805 1866 Figaro—Mariano Jose do Larra 1809 1837 Gail Hamilton—Miss Abigail Hamilton Doige 1838 .... GamaUel Smity—Jeremy Bentham.... 1748 1832 Gath—George Alfred Townsend 1833 .... Geoffrey Crayon —Washihgton Irving.l7Bß 1859 George Eliot—Mrs. Mary Ann (Evans) Lewes Cross 1829 1880 George Fitzdoodle —Wm. Makepeace Thackeray 1811 1863 George Sand—Mme. Dudevant 1804 1876 Grace Greenwood—Mrs. Sarah J. Lippincott 1825 .... Horace Hornem —George Gordon, Lord Byron 1788 1824 Hosea Big) ow—James R. Lowell .1819 .... Ik Marvel—Donald Grant Mitche11....1822 .... Jean Paul—Jean Paul F. Richter 1763 1825 Jedediah Cleishbotham —Sir W. Scott. 1671 1832 Jennie June—Mrs. J. C. Croly... 1840 .... John Chalkhill —Isaak Walton 1593 1683 Jonathan Oldstyle—Washington Irv- * ing 1783 1859. Josh Billings—Henry W. Shaw 1818 .... Joshua Coffin—Henry W. Lonafellow.,lßo7 1881 Junius —Probably Sir Philip Francis.. 1740 1818 Laertes —G. A. Townsend 1833 .... Launcelot Langstaff Washington Irving 1783 1859 Launcelot Langstaff —Will Ham Irving. 1766 1821 Launcelot Langstaff—James Kirke Paulding 1779 18f0 L. E. L.— Letitia Elizabeth Landon.. .1802 1839 rLittle Thomas —Thomas Moore 1779 1852 Luise Muhlbach —Mme. Clara Mundt. .1814 187 i Mala hi—Sir W. Scott 1771 18:33 Malachi Malagrowther—Sir W. Scott.. 1771 1832 Malakoff —Samuel Johnson. LL. D.... 1709 1784 Marion Harland—Mary V. (Hawes) Terhnne 1835 .... Mark Twain—Samuel L. Clemens 1835 M. Quad —Chas. B. Lewis Mrs. Partington—B. P. Shillaber 1814 .... Old Bachelor—George W. Curtis 1824 .... Oliver Optic —William Taylor Adams..lß22 .... Owen Meredith —Edward B. Bulwer, Lord Lytton 1831 .... Paul Creyton —John T. Trowbridge.... 1817 .... Parson Lot—The Rev. Charles Kingsley 1819 ;... Saxe Holm—Miss Rush Eliis 1858 .... Theophilus South —Edward Chitty.... 1807 .... Timothy Titcomb —J. G. Holland 1819 1881

Bedsteads for Kings.

Some time last year there was a wooden bedstead manufactured which was intended for the use of the King of Siam. It was fourteen feet wide, and divided into three parts, the center part being raised about eighteen inches. This piece of furniture, being of such unusual dimensions, caused a slight sensation among all those who were permitted to examine it. But the bedstead made in Paris, lately, for an Indian Prince, would draw thousands to see it were it exhibited in New York, even if fancy prices were charged foi admission. The bedstead is partly made of real silver, and cost many thousands of dollars. At each eorner stands a beautifully moddled female figure (lifesize) holding a delicately constructed fan. Each figure, it is said, wears a wig of real hair. This is to be regularly “dressed” by the court barber, once a week. On the great potentate getting into bed, the weight of his body sots certain machinery in motion, the effect of which is, that so long as his Royal Highness enjoys his horizontal refreshment, the silver maidens gently fan the sleeper. If the figures at the foot of the bed are required to exert themselves in a like manner, this can be accomplished by the aid of a clocklike apparatus. Moreover, should the dusky owner of the bed wish to be lulled to slumber by the dulcet sounds of soft music, this can be done by touching a spring. The bottom of the bed contains a large musical box, which is so arranged that the tunes can be loud or soft as desired. — Andrews' Queen.

They Walked.

Jim Lee and Ned .Fox, two pious merchant travelers, were going to their rooms on the fourth floor of the hotel, and in the elevator was a great big Texan and his bride. They were quite raw, and the elevator boy and the M. T.’s got on to it, and just at the second floor, Fox got over to the rope and stopped the elevator. “Hello.” said the’Texan, “what’s busted in the machinery ? Is the ingine off the track?” “No, no,” replied Lee, “only a cog come loose in the rachet. It happens that way every now and then.” “How long does she hang fire?” “Can’t say; the last time we waited four days before we got up. ” “Four days ? Thunderation, Sal, we can't stand that. We’ve got to ketch that train to-morrer momin’ at 9 o’clock, and if this blasted lifter is goin’ to hang here between roof and bottom for four days, we’ll have to drop out and walk up them dang stair steps if we air payin’ $3 a day.* Come on, Sal. Much obliged, stranger, for the pints you’ve give us,” and he and his bride got out and walked.—Merchant-Trav-eler. Mb. Spurgeon, the London preacher, being asked whether a man could be a Christian and belong to a brass band, replied, “Yes. I think he might; but it would be a very difficult matter, for his next-door neighbor to be a Christian.”

HUMOR.

[From Texas Siftings.] Strength and health go together—with the exception of butter. Beecher allows the use of his autograph on a soap advertisement. That is one the cleanest things Beecher ever did. ' There is a marked similarity between a beefsteak and printer’s “take.” At times both are unusually “fat.” M. Worth, the Parisian fashion king, is bald-headed. That’s what happens to a man who makes so many feminine misfits. Rev. Db. Talmage says the sermon of the future will be sensational. If Talmage’s sermons of the present are not sensational, heaven help posterity in the future. A Texas horse-thief is said to have recently been riddled with shot. Speaking from pure, personal experience, we candidly declare that this is much better than being shot with riddles. If a man in Pennsylvania says: “This is my wife,” the law considers him married. So if a married actor pranoes in from left-second entrance, and wildly shrieks, “S’death, villain! This is my wife!” he commits bigamy. Traveling troupes, and other barn storm ers, now en route for Pennsylvania, will please take notice and govern themselves accordingly. The Pinchbeck family, of Austin, is considered one of the meanest, stingiest and close-fisted of any in Texas. One night a new baby made its expected appearance in the Pinchbeck family, and when Johnny Fizzletop heard the news, he said: “Golly! won’t that baby be surprised when it comes to find out what kind of a stingy crowd he has got in amongst!”

(From Carl Pretzel’s Weekly.] Something to Altar—Girls. Something to halter—Horses. A carpenter had his chest cut open by robbers. They hammered away at it until they saw it successfully accomplished. It was plane that their efforts would augur no good, as there was nothing in it. An officer had riveted his eyes on them, and when he axed them what they were doing they attempted to file off in different directions. He caught them and put them under lock and key, and the next morning the Judge chiseled them out of all the. money they had. Patient to a physician— “Can you relieve my suffering?” “I can cer.” “Why do the wild wavdb murmur?” We suppose,it is becouse they run up against the “bank” and get broke. A hard-hearted landlord took the bones away from a delinquent boarder. The bones belonged to an end-man in a minstrel show. John Henry first grazed on a gas-light jet. When he entered the hed-room assigned him. He blew from his lungs a farm-yard blow, And now is a blight little cherubim. (From Peck's Sun.] Some people never lay by anything for a rainy day. They can’t even keep an umbrella. They used to call it matrimony, but a crusty, disappointed old bachelor calls it “Matter o’ money.” Well, it may be, sometimes. A Muskegon young man has married his aunt. Now let some paragrapher begin calling the man uncle to himself, brother-in-law to his own mother and son-in-law to his own grandmother. That will do as a starter to a family complication. An exchange says “the Prince of Wales is learning to play the bones.” Wonder if the Prince is going into the minstrel business and coming over to this country to reap American sheckles to help liquidate his $3,000,000 indebtedness ? A man in Winchester county, N. Y., aimed a gun at a rat, and riddled his 300 pound wife with shot. If that man had only aimed his gun at his wife, the rat would have been sent to kingdom come. It is strange how persistent some guns are in shooting in some other direction than that which they are aimed. Yale college has added a course of 3tudy relating to railroads, and all about them. This is unfortunate. The graduates will now expect to take positions as general managers of railroads as soon as their time expires at college, and they will find it is necessary to commence pumping*& hand-car, be promoted to shoveling on a gravel train, and work up gradually to a freight and passenger train before they can run a railroad. A Yale graduate wonld mix up a narrow gauge railroad twelve mile# long so it would take a good railroad man a year to straighten it out.

Among the Mexicans.

Newcomers in the City of Mexico are surprised on finding so many of the conveniences common to large cities at home, such as the telephone, the electric light, a police force and an excellent street-car service. The electrio lights are on the tops of iron rods running up from the gas-lamp posts. The police are far more soldierly than the regular army of the country. They wear a blue flannel suit, the coat buttoned op. and their cap has a covering of white, which, with the standing linen collar, is always immaculate. In their belts on one side they carry a club and on the other a large revolver. If one wishes to see a policeman he has only to go to the nearest corner and he will surely find him standing there, for he has no beat to walk over. The speed at which street cars go is astonishing. They dash along as fast as mules can pull them, and s they approach a corner the driver gives a loud toot on a horn for the purpose of warning people on the crossing to get out of the way. Epitaph of an Arizona man who loved his neighbor’s horses, not jvisely but too well, and who was also bad in other ways: “He was pretty mean in some respects; but, then, he was mean-’ er in others.” Raillery is sometimes more insupportable than wrong; because we have a right to resent injuries, but it is ridiculous to bo angry at a jest.Rochefoucauld.