Democratic Sentinel, Volume 11, Number 14, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 6 May 1887 — Page 6

A BENEDICTION. BY C. B. CBZSPL In asking for you heaven’s most gracious blessing, One word alone I need ; One word in which our want of strength confessing For God’s dear aid we plead. You go forth boldly as to joust or tourney, Grand in your dauntless pride ; If God be with you through life's untried journey, Naught else you need beside. You gaze with fearless eyes beyond the portal Through which your new path leads ; May God be with you! for His love immortal bufhceth all our needs. What will your war-cry be when foes grow bolder And strike on either hand ? When skies grow darker, love and friendship colder? “God, and the promised land?" Traced by the touch of bright angelic fingers, I read upon your brow, Where jet the guilelessness of childhood lingers—— “Go forth and conquer now.” Go boldly forth, by Christ's dear love defended, To guide you heaven's clear light; Your pathway by all angels pure attended— Go forth and win the fight I

IN THE REALM OF SCIENCE.

BY S. M. JKLLEY.

Like many other young women, not yet out of their teens, I was, through financial misfortune, thrown upon my own resources for a livelihood. By dint of steady piactice I mastered stenography, became a proficient type-writer, and subsequently secured a lucrative position as private secretary to Mr. Banks, senior partner of Banks, Price Co., publishers. Last summer, during the fine weather, I found it pleasanter to walk home, instead of riding in the crowded street cars, and usually at five o’clock I donned iny hat and gloves and stalled on mj - little journey. My attention was directed to a gentleman of clerical appearance whom I frequently met at a certain corner. Tall, of fine form and pleasing address, he was noticeable among the stream of commonplace humanity one meets upon a city thoroughfare. As the days wore on, the constant meeting with this stranger became a matter of course, and I ceased to wonder at it; and, in truth, so familiar was his face that I experienced a sense of disappointment when, occasionally, I failed to meet him. He was some professional man, I thought, whose business hours were over about the time mine were, and our ways were opposite. One day our eyes met, and I was startled at the peculiar brilliancy of his. They were blue, shaded by heavy, white lashes, and a curious, lambent, tiny flame seemed to scintillate in them. He seemed to regard me with pleasure, for a light smile lighted up his intellectual features, yet his manner was so respectful that I did not resent the liberty, and went on my way with a vague wish to form his acquaintance. Two weeks later, while busy with my type-writer, my silent acquaintance was ushered into Mr. Banks' office. His name was Robert Sutherland, and his business with my employer concerned the publication of a ponderous manuscript upon nervous diseases and their connection with insanity. In a low, well-bred voice he carried on a rapid conversation, displaying profound knowledge of medicine and deep research in the mysteries of human ailments. Apparently engrossed in my work, I paid strict attention to the conversation, and happening to look up I found him gazing at me. Again the queer expression of his eyes arrested my attention. He smiled distantly, and slightly inclined his head in a deferential salute. In a few minutes the interview was ended, and he departed. In a few days he had further business with Mr. Banks, and an introduction followed, as portions of his manuscript were to be put through my type-writer, as Mr. Sutherland revised it. I found him courteous and pleasant, and as I progressed with the work we became quite friendly. Upon examining a roll of closely written sheets, I found an envelope addressed to me. It read as follows: Miss Oba Olney—Pardon my seeming forwardness in thus coming to you, but I can think of no other agreeable method of approach. I earnestly wish for a batter acquaintance, and with the desire to obtain such, also to afford you some diversion, will you do me the honor to take a park drive, to-morrow evening, with yours sincerely, etc. ? Robert Sutherland.

My surprise was unbounded. After thinking the matter over I decided to accept his invitation. He met me at the street door ot the office, and for two hours I was well entertained. The park was in full foliage, the air was balmy and pleasant, and when he lifted me to the pavement, at home, I thanked him cordially for the pleasure I had enjoyed. After his departure I remembered that his eyes seemed to glitter whenever our arms came in contact, or our hands accidentally touched. Deeming it of little moment, I dismissed the thought from my mind. The drive was followed by a request to go with him to see Mary Anderson, in “Pj’gmalion and Galatea.” Evening fell with a storm of wind and rain. He came in his coupe, and within its closed doors we were secure from the boisterous elements. Suddenly I discovered that we were again in the park! I turned to my companion in alarm and asked: “Why have you driven so far out of the way?” “I thought it would be more pleasant within the gloomy shadows of the park,” he replied, quietly. At that instant his face was illumined by an electric light, and I »iw his eyes gleam and glitter as if they were huge diamonds. My heart stood still in horror. An insidious fear crept through my veins, and a mad impulse prompted me to fling open the glass doors of the coupe and leap to the ground. As though he divined my thoughts, he said: “Keep your seat. It is wet and muddy, and, besides, we are far from the park entrance.” “Mr. Sutherland,”! replied, summoning all mv courage, and speaking with as much decision as possible, “you will do me the favor to leave the park at once and drive to my home.” “Drive you home! Ha, ha! That is far from my intentions. Miss Ora, can you ima-.’iue why I have brought you here tout ht?” It flashed upon me that he was insane. The curious appearance of his eyes was

nothing more or less than an indication ot madness, and with all the proverbial cunning of a chaotic brain he had plann* d some horrible deed, and selected me as hie victim. What should I do? My danger was imminent, and 1 must act instantly. “Certainly I do not, sir; but it seems to me this portion of the park is too dark to drive in without danger of overturning»our conveyance; don’t you think so?” “Perhaps it is, so I will turn to the drive further to the left,” said he. The rain began to fall faster and the wind blew in wilder gusts. Occasional flashes of lightning added a painful item to my surroundings, but they enabled me to see that we were now on a drive which led to the main entrance of the park. “Are you afraid now?” he asked, and I noticed he had observed where we were. “Afraid! Why should I fear when with you?” “That’s right. I knew you were not afraid of me. lam your only protector tonight. But see my instruments!” he said, producing a flat leather case, such as surgeons carry. “They came from Paris. When we get to that light yonder, you can examine them.” In a few moments he had stopped before an electric lamp. Quickly opening the case he displayed to my hoi rifled gaze a set of fine surgical instruments. “Are they not beauties?” he queried, turning his brilliant eyes upon me. “I think they are very fine,” I replied, with a sickening dread creeping over me. Nerving myself to appear calm, I continued, “But what use can they be to you to -night? lam quite certain you will not need them.” “Let me explain something to you,” he said, in a most earnest way. His restless manner vanished and bis demeanor calmed vnto that of a scholar about to convey valuable secrets of long study and laborious years of toil. “For years I have spent time and money in the effort to wrest a secret from the depths of nature, and at last I have a clear conception of that which 1 have striven so arduously to gain. I have made the most wonderful d scoveiy in the realm of science, and to-nignt I will piove it—prove it to you and the world! 1 will be the greatest benefactor the world has ever known! Listen. There are nerves which lead to certain centers of the brain. These centers govern certain faculties. The nerves I speak of are in double sets of twos, threes, fours, and fives, each set balancing and serving as a check upon the other. “My discovery is that by cutting the nerves of a set so as to allow the corresponding set only to act on the brain, the faculty governed by that set of nerves will develop prodigiously. Thus, you see, if I cut the set of nerves whose office is to hold your sense or faculty of right in check, in a little while you will be powerless to do a wrong act, because that faculty will control you perfectly through its increased power.” As he rapidly went over his jargon I sought in vain to attract attention without creating a scene. I determined to spring from the coupe, scream for help and make the best of my way to the park entrance. Silently I placed my hand on the fastening of the coupe doors—it was firmly locked. “Now, Miss Ora, I wish to make you the best woman on earth. I have brought you here to-night to verify, by experiment, that m.v secret is destined to make mankind better and nobler.” His eyes sparkled and moved about in their sockets with marvelous quickness. The man seemed surcharged with excitement, and 1 momentarily grew more and more unable to withstand the strain upon my nerves. A thought came to me. “I believe I have a nervous chill,” I said, with a convulsive shiver. “I am subject to them, and, if not attended to at once, I suffer severely. Have you your med;cine„ case with you?” He turned and regarded me strangely, and appeared astonished. “No, I have not," he replied; “but your condition will seriously interfere with my experiment.” “Can we not wait until to-morrow night?” I quickly responded, with eager hope pulsating in my breast. “Will you promise to keep my secret?” he asked, cautiously. “I promise faithfully.” “And, when you have realized the greatness of my discovery, will you become my wife?” “I give you my word that I will do so, Mr. Sutherland.” Without a word further on the subject, he spoke to the horse and we were on our way home. He said but little, and seemed to be thinking intently. Arriving at my steps, he unlocked the door and assisted me to alight. “Remember your promise,” he whispered, gazing steadily into my face with his bright, restless eyes. “I will?’ I replied, and bounded up the steps. lie mistrusted my actions, for I heard him spring after me. In a trice I opened the door and closed it, the spring lock making it secure. I heard a muttered curse, and all grew dark. I had fainted. The morning papers contained an account of the arrest of an insaue man found wandering in the streets, whose name was Robert Sutherland; but they did not relate my terrible experience in the park.

Saved the Empress’ Life.

Many American physicians are among the ablest, but their profession rests on a false hypothesis. It has nothing to do with science, and cannot have until it has vastly advanced. Marked improvement has been made in therapeutics. Our phys cians compare ver/ favorably with those of Europe. After the Empress Eugenie had given birth to the Prince Imperial an important operation was necessary, and all the celebrated doctors resident there were called in, among them Dr. Johnson, now dead. During her treatment it was found, to their consternation, that the blood had left her brain, he was in momentary peril of losing her life. A solemn consultation took place. Nobody could advise except Johnson, who declared he could remedy the evil. He held her up by the heels and the blood flowed back to her brain. He saved her life. Not one of the Parisian sages would have dreamed of o . ering so monstrous an indignity to the Empress of the French, but the indignity, as they afterward acknowledged, was preferable to her death. — Chicago News. Bearing coats-of-arms was introduced and became hered.tary in England and France about 11J2.

THE MITCHELL FUNERAL

One of the Largest That Ever Took Place in the City of Milwaukee. Impressive Services by the Clergy at the Church and the Pilgrimage to the Grave. [Milwaukee special.]The funeral of Alexander Mitchell was the largest ever witnessed in Milwaukee. It took place fiom St. James Episcopal Church. Before removing the casket from the bouse, Rev. Dr. Keene read a prayer in the presence of the family. The scene at the church was in accordance with the beautiful ritual of the Episcopal Church, of which Mr. Mitchell was a devoted member. About all of the seats in the church were reserved for the relatives and friends, for the Governor afid staff, the State and city officials and delegations of societies, commerce and railroad bo.lies and delegations. The casket was opened, and the remains lay in state until the hour of the funeral. A constant stream of people had been

passing through the church, and during the forenoon thousands viewed the remains. The face of the dead man looked lifelike and natural, and there were many sad scenes and incidents during the day as old friends looked at the dead man for time. The casket was heavily draped, and on its lid rested a cross of calla lilies. A special train from Chicago brought hundreds of people, many of whom could not get near the church. During tho vice the broad avenue was blocked with a deuse mass of humanity that had gathered to pay their last respects to the dead millionaire and citizen. Hundreds of strangers from over the Northwest and from other parts of the country were present. The service was impressively conducted by Rev. Dr. Keene, Mr. Mitchell’s old iriend and pastor, and Rev. E. G. Richardson, rector of St. James Church. At its close a vast funeral cortege formed and slowly wended its way to Forest Home. There was no military display, and the long line that followed the remains was made up of railroad and other employes of the big enterprises of which Mr. Mitchell was the head, of old settlers, and of societies in which he had long held membership. As the cortege passed through the Soldiers Home a guard of 600 old veterans acted as an escort from one gate to the other. At the grave in Forest Home Cemetery the service was brief, and was conducted entirely by Dr. Keene, and consisted of the committal and a prayer. All flags over the city were flying at half mart. The stores and shops closed at noon, and during the afternoon business was as entirely suspended as on the Sabbath.

Stories of the Dead Millionaire. (From the Chicago Times.] In 1879 the Democratic State Convention at Madison nominated Mitchell for Governor while he was in London. He sent a cable dispatch positively declining the nomination, but omitted his signature, as is customary, to save expense, when the sender of a cablegram is well known. The enthusiastic Democrats would not accept the dispatch as genuine because he had not signed it. “Jim” Jenkins, the Milwaukee lawyer, was a delegate in the convention, and defended the genuineness of the dispatch by explaining the custom as to cable messages. “Cablegrams cost forty cents a word.” he said, “and we all know Mr. Mitchell’s economical habits where expense is not necessary. By not signing his name to his dispatch he saved eighty cents.” The argument was conclusive to the Democrats of the outlying Milwaukee wards and of the backwoods, and the declination was accepted. Yet in political matters, when he took an interest on one side or the ottier, Mr. Mitchell was not only generous but lavish of money. He attended a meeting of the Democratic State Central Committee in 1871, when ex-Senator J. R. Doolittle was the Democratic candidate for Governor. “How much money do you expect to raise?” he asked. He was answered by Sat Clark that they ought to have about $5,000. “Give me the pen,” he said, and pulled the paper toward him. He signed for $2,500 — half the amount said to be required—and drew his check for the money. It was about all the money that they had for the campaign. He was a delegate to the Democratic National Convention at St. Louis in 1876, where Tilden was nominated for President. Doolittle, George B. Smith, Joe Rankin, N. D. Fratt, and others were his colleagues. At the close of the convention their several bills were sent to their parlor, the cost of which (SSOO for the week) was apportioned among them. Ringing the bell as a clerk appeared Mr. Mitchell said: “Make the bill (be pronounced it “bull,” with a bur in his pronunciation) for the room out to me.’ It was done, and he drew his check for the whole amount. His gifts to charity were very numerous, and he even allowed himself occasionally to be bled to a reasonable extent by frauds and deadbeats whom he knew to be such. He had some worthy pensioners, generally pqor Scotchmen, to whom he gave regular gratuities. In church matters and others of a really deserving character, he usually let the begging committee get all that they could raise from others, and then made up the remainder himself. When Mitchell was worth SIOO,OOO or $200,000, and was regarded as a growing Western banker, he made his first formal

visit as a capitalist to the East and went on to Wall street He was immediately selected as their prey by the wolves of the street. He had determined to try hie luck a little in stocks and .they found out what his purchase was. They manipulated the stock, working it down, and hung on to it with characteristic tenacity. He was called upon for marg ns, and kept putting up and ‘putting up. It did not take him long to “catch on.” and he saw what the sharpers were at. He at once drew and raised enough money to buy at its greatly depressed value every dollar of stock which he had margined for a considerable port.on of its price as it then stood. “Take that, dom ve,” he slid mentally and aloud to the whole of Wall street, as he bade it good-bv. The stock rebounded with force as the artificial pressure was taken off, and the blacklegs who had been selling it short to "skin” him saw it advance a' ove the price at which be had mule the original purchase, so that he unloaded at a ] rofit and they were the losers.

One or two anecdotes that are characteristic of a grimly humorous side of his disposition may be told. Four or five years ago a book-keeper in his bank proved a defaulter. The clerk had a desk near the vault, out of wnich. by some sleight-of-hand, he had stolen money for years and falsified the books so as to cover it. Exactly how it was done could not be explained, and nobody’ could tell how much cash he had got away with. The sum stolen was supposed to be hundreds of thousands of dollars, and the thei ts Lad been i oing on for at least six or seven years before tney were discovered. Mitchell was talking about the weather one day to a friend, and smiled lightly at the loss. “But,” said he, “there’s my nephew, ~oLn Johnston, who is an expert book-keeper and has charge of the books, and he can’t tell how it happened. It’s a dom’d good joke on John Johnston that he couldn’t see what was going on before his eyes. ”

The late Chief Justice E. G. Ryan, of Wisconsin, had something of the toady in his disposition while he was struggling for a livelihood as a needy lawyer. After he became Chief Ju-tice he decided all the cases under the absurd granger laws against the railroads, and t“e St. Paul line suffered severely. The Chief Justice met the railroad magnate after the decisions were given. “ Why, how well you are looking, Mr. Mitchell,” said the Chief Justice, with an affability that at that period he showed to few men. “Yes,” said Mitchell, “I’ve been getting sot (fat) on your decisions.” The sneer cut the great jurist like a knife, and he walked away without a word.

BASE-BALL.

President Young Addresses a Letter to Jto Official Scorers of the National League. ‘ Attacking tlie Reserve Rule. The unwarranted attacks of certain papers upon President Spalding, of the Chicago Base-Ball Club, regarding the sale of the releases of players to other clubs has earned the contempt of lovers of fair play, says the Inter Ocean. The reserve rule was the salvation of the professional base-hall clubs that adopted it. The National agreement protects the smallest club in rts list, and no matter how good a player they may develop, they are protected against the desertion of the player by the offer of a big salary. But for this rule the spirit of rivalry which exists between the professional ball clubs of the country would result in the total disintegration oi every professional team at the end of each season, and the competitive bidding by clubs for ball-players’ services would finally result in extravagant salary lists that would bankrupt every club that attempted to stand up under it, and effectually kill the sport professionally. The Chicagos were the last to sell a release; all the other clubs had sold releases. President Spalding said: “The case of McCormick is peculiar. He, with Glasscock, Briody, and another, deserted from the league, and, tempted by offers of increased salaries, they all went into Lucas’ club in the Union Association. The Cleveland Club promptly expelled them for their action. The Union Association went to pieces, and these deserters found themselves blacklisted and thrown out of employment. At the personal solicitation of McCormick (who came to me with tears in his eyes, begging me for God’s sake to put him in a way to earn a living), and at the request of Mr. Lucas, I interested myself to secure the reinstatement of tne deserters. They were reinstated. McCormick went to the Providence team, and his habits were so against him that the Providence management wanted to release him to me for S6OO. I bought his release, but not until I had a talk with him, in which he 'said be wanted to come to Chicago, and promised me that we should have nothing to complain of on the score of his habits. Last year his habits were so notorious that we could not endure them, and hence the discipline against which he rebelled. We did it in his interest as well as our own. I submit whether I have not been McCormick’s friend, an d whether he has not good ground for being grateful to the management of the Chicago Club.”

Scoring. President Young, of the Base-Ball League, has addressed the following letter to the official scorers: To the official scorers of the National League : In reviewing the new code with a view to ascertaining if there are any points to which the attention of the official scorers should be drawn, 1 have come upon the provision crediting a stolen base to a runner where the same is secured through the assistance of a misnlay other than a battery error—an overthrow or fumble, for example. The philosophy df this credit is perfectly logical. The runner earns a base by making a daring attempt to secure it, and, if successful, even though assisted by an error, deserves the point. The credits will, of course, be included in your official returns of stolen bases. We now come, however, to the point which I desire to emphasize. This query has been propounded to me : Suppose a player reaches first on a hit, steals second on a fumble of the baseman, and is batted home, is the run earned ? I answer, no. The reason is obvious, but the point should be carefully borne in mind in filling out the earned-run blank in your score sheets. Earned runs, it should be remembered, are not credited to individuals, nor do they have any particular bearing upon the status of a club in making up the average which constitute the monthly and annual records. They are important factors, however, in gauging the effectiveness of a pitcher, and it is in this light alone that they should be regarded. It is then mnuifestly unfair to charge a pitcher with a run earned off his delivery when bases secured by fieldins errors are essential factors in,it. Obviously the pitcher can in no way be responsible for a muff by the basemen or an overthrow by the catcher. In computing earned runs, therefore, you will scan your scores carefully and omit tallies in which the stolen base assisted by an error is a necessary element.

HUMOR.

The fishery question: Who’ll tafc® the eel off? The language the telephone speaks is broken English. The moat popular “tenner” is th > ten-dollar gold piece. Although very fashionable as an article of dress, the bustle is really a back number. Lion tamer—Hello, here comes my wife; let me get into a place of safety (jumps into the cage).— Humori»tiche Blatter. We hear a good deal said about the quickness of Irish wit, but after all is it at all strange that an Irishmah should say Pat things ? “Give me a dude egg, please,” said > the boarder to the table girl. “A dude egg ? What is that ?” *A fresh one. ” —Boston Courier. “Anarchy,” said an orator to the socialists whom he was endeavoring to placate, “is all well enough in itself, but it must not be carried to excess." We have no objection to the man who rides a hobby—not even if he rides it to death. We only protest when he takes up the whole road with it— Philadelphia Call. Husband—“l see by the papers that Mrs. R.’s reception was a very brilliant affair.” Wife—“Oh, very likely; there are none of her acquaintances can afford to wear real diamonds.”— Boston Beacon. City man—“ What the blazes is the matter with that hen ?” Farmer—- “ Nothing; she has just laid an egg.” City man—“ Great Scott! One would suppose she had laid the foundation of a brick block.”— Bos ton Courier. Said a school examiner at South Abington, Mass.: “When the Pilgrims landed, what did they have that was more precious than home and friends ?** A bright-eyed little boy answered so promptly as to bring down the house, “Popcorn!” “Can you conceive,” asked the professor, of an eternal vacuum, a portion of space unoccupied, an empty void into which nothing ever enters, from which nothing can ever come, which maintains inviolate and forever its own eternal emptiness?” “I can,” replied the student; “I have a stylographic pen.” Doctor—“ Your heart is in a normal condition.” Nervous Old Maid—- “ Goodness! And is it fatal?” Doctor —“lt’s beat is iambic. ” Old Lady—“lt’s just dreadful!” Doctor—“ Were it trochiac, or even spondiac ” Old Lady—“ Doctor, don’t keep me in this horrible suspense. Give me some medicine at once. ” Doctor—“My dear, there’s nothing the matter with your heart.” Old Lady—“Oh! there isn’t? Why didn’t you say so, then?”—Harper's Bazar. THE DYSPEPTIC’S DESIRE. He stood, before a candy shop, And viewed the goodies sweet, But owing to dysjiepsia’s rule He dare no candy eat. Then wished he long and wished he loud That some good-natured wizard Would kindly place beneath his vest A full-grown ostrich gizzavd. —Danville Breeze.

His Last Bequest.

Many long years ago old Spork sent an article to one of the leading magazines, which was promptly accepted and paid for. Since that time Spork has bought a magazine every month in the expectation of seeing his article in print, and has already squandered in th s manner a very substantial fortune —but the article has not appeared. The other day he sat down and wrote the following letter to the editor of the magazine: “My once princely fortune is squandered in buying copies of your magazine, in the expectation of seeing my article, written sixty-three years ago, in the vigor and buoyancy of my youth, published therein. My health is broken; my hopes are blasted; I feel the near approach of death. These are trifles, you may say, but they affect me; and consequently I wish you to heed the request of a dying man. I am 97 years of age, and cannot possibly live another year. At most I can buy but three or four copies more of your magazine; and so you cannot make another dollar by withholding the publication of my article. As a further inducement to publication I will refund the amount of the original check paid for the article, provided it is published before my death. Yours respectfully, “John Spork.” —Detroit Free Press.

Portraits of the Speakers.

In the House corridor on the south side of the chamber, known as “the Speaker’s lobby,” are hung a number of photographs and crayons of the various gentlemen who have been chosen to preside over the House. Most of these are indifferent pictures, those representing the earlier Speakers being enlarged photographs, copied from such pictures of the subjects as were obta nable. Information has been received from the Governor of Massachusetts to the effect that an appropriation has been made by that State to supply oil paintings of such citizens of the Bay State as have been Speakers of the House* This is an example which will be doubtless followed by the Legislatures of other States; and in a few years, it is hoped, a valuable and creditable collection of oil paintings of all the men who have been chosen to preside over the House will take the place of the indifferent pictures that now hang upon the walls of the Speaker’s lobby.— Cor. Philadelphia Ledger. If you speak what you will, you shall hear what you dislike.