Democratic Sentinel, Volume 14, Number 38, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 17 October 1890 — Page 6

THE ONE f AIR WOMAN. BT WH. W. LOSS. JTh« one fair woman of the wide, wide world. , — Browning. Others for others, but ehe for me— * The one fair woman beneath the sun. —Hay. I hare stcod In the merry hall® of mlßth, ’Mid the clash, and glitter, and glare. Where Jewels flashed and bright eyes gleamed ’Neath brows divinely fair. There were beauties there of every type, And hearts o’erflowing with glee; But 'mid that throng of bright-eyed belles The one fair woman I could not see. On the sun-kissrd tide of Como’s Lake I have whiled bright hours'away. And from Vesuvius' mount of fire Watched the sun die out o’er Naples’ Bay. I have floated away on the Tiber’s breast In a white-sailed shallop, light and free, I have rambled the ntarblo streets of Rome; But never her face could I see. I have breathed the air in tropical bowers. And drank from the desert well; I have stood in the drift of polar snows, And slept In Titan's Dell. In every land teneath the heavens Beautiful women I’ve seen; But none ever wore the sweet, sweet face Of the one fair woman—my queen. I have mingled at the festal board, When laugh and song went round, And drank the henlth, in sparkling wine, To the bride with rosebuds crowned. I have gazed on many a lovely face Beaming with love-light free; But to my heart there came no thrill— The one fair woman I could not see. I have stood and watched the stars come out Benealh a southern sky; Fair Luna gliding from the east, A queen of light on high. Then, with a longing in my breast, I’ve turned again to see If ’mid the gems in Beauty’s bower There was one woman for me. They call me strange, a, dreamer wild, A I wander far and wide. From tho eastern skies of the rising sun To the west, where lie sets in pride. Others may win and take their choice, But among them are none for me; My lonely heart must wander on Till the one fair woman I see. Palmyra, Va.

POOR AND PROUD.

“I’m afraid we can’t go to Saratoga this summer,” said Mrs. Whitby to her eldest daughter, a stylish-looking girl of nineteen. “I have pinched and contrived in every possible way, and yet I can hardly make both ends meet.” “But what will everybody say of us ?” answered the daughter. “Very true,” replied the mother. So they went to Saratoga. By what strategy it was effected we cannot pretend to tell. Some people have a way of cutting down their servants’ wages, and of haggling with a seamstress about the price of a day’s work; and Mrs. Whitby was one of these. It was by what she called economy, but plain people call meanness, that she saved the money for her summer trip. The day had been fixed for their departure, and the elder daughter had begun to pack her trunk, when Mrs. Whitby came into the room, with an open letter in her hand and dismay written on her countenance. “You might as well put your things back in their drawers,” said the mother. “Heie is a letter nom your aunt Ellen. She is sick and out of work as well as out of money, she says. I declare, it’s too provoking. She has always been a burden to the family. She might have married when she was young, and then your father wouldn’t have had to support her, as he has had to do, half the time. There was old Mr. Smith was dying for her, when she ras your age, and still pretty. But, with her ridiculous notions about love and similarity of tastes she refused him; and now. without a penny, would starve, if it wasn’t for us. And goodness knows, we’ve enough to do to take care of ourselves.” “But, ma, we can’t give up Saratoga,” said thedaughter. “We should never be able to hold up our heads again, if we do. People will suspect the truth. We’ve talked too much about it to stay at home. Besides, I told Dr. Burnet we were going ; and he said at once that he’d meet us there. ” And she looked quite conscious. For Dr. Burnet was no antiquated physician with a gray poll and a gold headed cane, but a handsome young man just entering his profession, and the inheritor of a competent income. All the gitls in the Whitby set declared him “a love of a man.” He was, in reality, very much more than this silly term implied, having first-rate abilities, a high sense of honor, and a manly character. The pretty face of Miss Whitby had pleased him, and he had been showing her considerable attention. “That alters the case,” said the mother, decidedly. “Your aunt must get somebody else to help her. She’s no right, either, to ask us; we’ve already done enough for her. Besides, she’ll get sewing again if she looks out sharp for it. Of course, it won’t do to sit with her hands folded. I wonder what would become of us all if I did it ?” So they went to Saratoga. To have seen the Whitbys at Congress Hall, a stranger would have thought they had not a care on earth. Little did people there imagine the shifts to which Mrs. Whitby had been driven in order to raise funds for this expedition. Meantime Dr. Burnet was hurrying through his engagements, so that he might follow a certain pretty face to Saratoga. He was not one to neglect a duty, however ; hence, while one or two patients continued so ill, he could not persuade himself that it was right to leave. But one day after watching a little boy through a dangerous illness, he was drawing on his gloves at his final visit, when the mother spoke: “I wish, Doctor, if you could, you would go up stairs and see a sick lady. She has lodged in our front attic these last two years; you know we let a part of our house out to lodgers. She’s a Teal lady, and has rich relations.” “Rich relations!” said the Doctor, ■“and she living in a garret?” “Well, they live in good style and E retend to be somebody. But they lqt er starve almost. She’s been out of work for a long time; the sewing machines, you know, make it hard for people that live by the needle; and now, I fear, she is really sick ?” “Have these relations been applied

“Yet they had money, it seems, lo go to Saratoga.” “That’s just it. —If-thev were starring themselves there might be some excuse. But people that can afford to go to Saratoga can surely afford to help, a relation. “I don’t believe Miss Whitby has had anything to eat fora week, except what I’ve sent up to her.” “What name did you say?” asked the Doctor, a stiange feeling coming over him. “Whitby. She’s an own sister to Lawyer Whitby, who has the pretty daughter.” “1 will go up,” said the Doctor. “As you say, I, may dq some good.” “Good heavens!” said the Doctor to himself, as he rode away, “what an escape I have made. To think that there should be such people in the world. Poor and proudf Poor and proud! That, I suppose, is the whole story. To keep up appearances they let their own flesh and blood die of starvation. The last time I made a morning call at the Whitbys, Miss Clara was sitting in the drawing-room, in costly slippers and morning dress, dawdling over a novel. What shams they are! It is clear, too, that the heartless indifference of her relations is hastening this poor old creature’s death.” “Oh, yes. She sent, I know, just before they went off to Saratoga. She was too sick to go herself, so she wrote a note and got my eldest boy to take it. But her sister-in-law wrote word back that they’d enough to do to take care of themselves.”

Dr. Burnet did not go to Saratoga. The Whitbys wondered why, and still hoped he would come, till, at last, their time was up, and they were forced to go home. But, when there, the mystery was explained. A note was found on the table, which had been left there that day, announcing the death of their aunt. The note was in the handwriting of Dr. Burnet. A little inquiry revealed to the Whitbys that the Doqtor had supported the invalid during the last month of her existence, and even made, arrangements for her burial, “unless,” as the note said in conclusion, “Mr. Whitby, as the nearest relative, would prefer assuming direction of the sad ceremonies.” They saw that no explanation that could be made would satisfy the Doctor. So they did not attempt it. But Mr. Whitby paid the undertaker’s bill, and forwarded a check to Dr. Burnet, in a formal note, for “professional services.” The check was returned in a blank envelope. Dr. Burnet is now married. He first met his wife, we happen to know, in the house of a poor family, where the same common humanity had led them both. He met her there several times, and bad fallen in love with her before he knew her name. At last she passed him one day in one of the stateliest equipages of the city. But he married Helen Wakefield, not for her fortune, but for her accomplishments and work.

Its Tail in the Air.

Yes, a tree is an undergrohnd creature, with its tail in the air. All its intelligence is in its roots. Think what sagacity it shoivs in its search after food and diiok. Somehow or other, the rootlets, which are its tentacles, find out that there is a brook at a moderate distance from the trunk of the tree, and they mqke for it with all their might. They find every crack in the rocks where there are a few grains of the nourishing substanco they care for and insinuate themselves into its deepest recesses. When spidng and summer come they let their tails grow, and delight in whisking them about in tho wind, or letting them be whisked about bv it; for those tails are poor, passive things, with very little will of their own and bend in whatever direction the wind chooses to make them. The leaves make a good deal of noise whispering. I have sometimes thought I could understand them as they talked with each other, and that thev seemed to think they made the wind as they wagged forward and back. Remember what I say. The next time you see a jtree waving in the wind, recollect that it is the tail of a great underground many-armed, polypus-like creature which is as proud of its caudal appendage, especially in summer time, as a peacock of his gorgeous expanse of plumage. Do you think there is anything so very odd about this idea? Once get it well into your heads and you will find it renders the landscape wonderfully interesting. 'There are as many kinds of tree tails as there are of tails to dogs and other quadrupeds. Study them as Daddy Gilpin studied them in his “Forest Scenery,” but don’t forget that they are only the appendage of the underground vegetable polypus, the true organism to which they belong.—Oliver Wendell Holmes, in the Atlantic.

The Potato Crop and Starch.

The poor potato yield this year will have a disastrous effect on the wearers of linen shirts. Why? No potatoes, no starch; no starch, no white shirts. Therefore, some enterprising citizen might make a fortune by purchasing all .the flannel shirts which now pell at such tempting figures and secure a “corner” on them. The fact that the crop is so small that there will hardly be enough potatoes for table use, let alone for starch factories, will make the individual who can boast of a generous array of flannel shirts a person to be envied. Potatoes now sell at 75 cents to $1 a bushel, while last year they could be had at from 15 cents to 25 cents. Therefore, merchants feel as ' though the demand could hardly be supplied. The first crop was a failure, and hopes aie centered on a later crop. If that turns out poorly, potatoes will be classed with such luxuries as ice and coal.

How to Walk.

Square your shoulders, expand your chest and look out for your chin. That is thp pivot upon which depends the poise of the machine. Step out easily and firmly, letting the ball of the foot the.grp.iind,. first so that you get th% benefit of that beneficent spring Which Dame Xatu're built into your instep to save-the flattie and jar to the whole 1 system which 7>eeple who will persist in walking on their heels inflict QOrtheir anatomy.

IT READS LIKE FICTION.

MARVELS SUGGESTED BY THE CENSUS REPORT. The Phenomenal Growth of Chicago—Population Which Increase* by Malttplicatlon.Not Addition—Doubling Bight Times in Fifty Tears—Living Chicagoans Hunted Wolves In the Present City Limits— The Great Fire, and the Wonderful City Which Resulted from It—Many Thiugs In Which the World's Fair City Leads the Universe.

more and read them attentively. They are tho footings—the last unofficial —of the population of tho city of Chicago, taken from the United States Census Reports of the years 1840 and 1890, respectively. Between them lies an interval of only one half century—a half century of such marvelous growth and wonderful development as to well nigh make one doubt the evidences of his own senses, and imagine it a section of that long past ago when genii waved magic wands and palaces like tha.t of Aladdla rose to perfection in a single night. Chicago is at present, and for throe years and more to come will be, for that matter, a cynosure for the eyes of the entire civilized world. In 1893 the World's Columbian Fair will be held there, and all previous international expositions completely eclipsed. But amid the brilliancy and wonders of it all, the city itself will stand out as the greatest of all “exhibits.” Many pens are writing accounts of the rise and progress of the famous city, and many pencils depicting tho magnificent work of her architects and engineers, yet there seems no danger of the matter

THE DREAM OF LA SALLE

being soon overdone, or the interest, of tho public becoming satisfied, much less cloyed. C-hicago began life as a city in 1837. It had a population of 4,170, which, at the taking of the sixth national census, in 1840, 1 was found to have increased to 4,479, or about 100 a year. In the fifty years which have elapsed since the latter date, it has doubled eight times, and left a margin of about 50,000 besides. Taking this item into account, its people have doubled every six years since! 1840. This advancement by a geometrical progression (by multiplication rather than addition) breaks all the records |of the world, and discounts the wildest dreams of all the enthusiastic bubble-blowers and boomers who in the past have predicted her mighty future. Chicago is now tho first city of the nation in point of area, the second in the matter of population, and the third in nothing of importance. The first white resident of Chicago was a negro from San Domingo, named Jean Baptiste Point au Sable. This Hibernicism has been attributed to one William Caldwell, a local celebrity of later years. Jean Baptiste w T as a politician, and that of nd mean order, so far as his ambition was concerned. His first scheme was to ingritiato himself with the Indians, become a chief, and, planting a colony of his own native San Domingoans, rule all as grand sachem, and attain perhaps to thle title of king. Falling in his ambition, as scores of would-be politicians have) before his time and since, he abandoned his cabin on the river, withdrew in disgust from the scene of his defeat, and ended his days at Fort Clark, now the city of Peoria. Aii Sable arrived in the summer of 1779: Before that time the site of the future great city had been several times visitecl. Probably the first man to arrive was a missionary priest, Pere James Maripjette, who came in 1673. Seven years later arrived ’an Indian trader, Robert C. LaSalle, in whose honor was named the street at the head of which the Board of Trade now stands. As LaSalle and his companion approached In an open boat, he exclaimed: “Already I see the countless millions who will tome time h habit these fertile valleys.”

Perhaps something of prophetic visioti was given him, and he saw a picture of what the swampy morass about him would be at the end of two centuries of time. In 1800, Illinois and Indiana vtere organized together into the Indian Territory, with tho seat of government at Vincennes, Ind., In 1804 a frontier military post was established at Chicago, and a block fort erected, and named Fort Dearborn, after Gen. Henry Dear-’ borg.c - • The same year came John Kinzie, an Indian trader from St. Joseph, on the Michigan side of the lake. He purchased and repaired the old cabin of Au Sable, residing there with his family. Upon tho breaking out of the war with England in 1812 tho Indians took to 'the war-path, and through their usual treachery succeeded iq massacring over fifty people at Chicago, including a number of women and children. In 1816 the fort was rebuilt, and occupied for twenty-one years. It was demolished in 13,36.. , ( A number of people are stiil living in Chicago who were there when it was incorporated as a city in 18,37, and there are a few much older residents. “Old settlers’ picnics” are annually held. There one may hear many amusing and startling stories of the olden time. It seems incredible, but it is true, that within tho memory of men now living in Chicago, where stately build-

ABLES of statistics have come to be regarded, and very properly it would seem, as the driest of all reading matteh. If any of l our readers,howlever,- in obediJence to a custom f which has assumed the force o f habit, have //“skipped” the 'two linos of figures given above and designed as a text, or more properly theme, for the present article, they will do well to look them over once

ings now stand, wild animals were hunted and shot. In the early days tho prairies were infested with wolves, and wolf hunts upon ground now covered with fino residences are prominent among the memories of the early settlers. From 1840 the growth of the city was steady and rapid. In 1850 it contained 29,963 people, which, in the next decade, had become 109,206. The war proved a great stimulus to Chicago, not only adding to its population but vastly increasing its manufactories and commercial importance. In 1870 it had passed the three hundred thousand mark ind taken its place among the foremost cities of the country. i As the great civil war is used as a point of time from which the most of our people date and antedate events, so tfie Chicago fire has provided the £eside»ts of the city with a starting point from which all historical occurrences arid private experiences are reckoned. Great in her successes and triumphs, Chicago is not to be outdone even in her misfortunes. On the night of Oct. Bth, 1871, the kicking of a cow overturned a lamp In a stable in the West Division not far from the river, and kindled the most disastrous conflagration of which the annals of history make mention. The preceding day the greatest fire in the history of tho city had swept away several blocks in the West Division, but this had boen lost sight of and forgotten in the awful holocaust which ensued on the Bth and 9th. At midnight of that dreadful Sunday the flames leaped across the river and assailed the commercial quarter of the great metropolis. Despite the frantic

efforts of the brave firemen, its cor rse could not be stayed. It soon bursl all attempted bonds of restraint, and, like an insatiate demon, swept on, through blocks devoted to squalor, vice, and poverty, to the brick and marble palaces beyond. So rapid was the march of the fire fiend that within two hours long lines of magnificent “fire-proof” buildings had gone up in flame and smoke, and down in twisted iron and broken fragments of brick and stone. At 3 o'clock the Court House, with its invaluable records, succumbed to the enemy, the great bell pealing what seemed a parting knell as it went crashing down. From this moment the city was doomed. The fire swept on, crossed the river to the northward, and devastated the section lying along the lake for a distance of two and a half miles. As a spectacle, it was, beyond dotibt, the grandest as well as the most appalling ever presented to the eyes of mortal; From an elevated position the appear*

JEAN BAPTISTE'S CABIN.

OLD FORT DEARBORN, ERECTED IN 1804.

fence wa« that of a huge 3ca of flame, sweeping in vast breakers and billows over 'the doomed city. A square of substantial buildings would be submerged like a child’s tiny heap of sand upon the beach of the ocean. Often the de» vouring element seemed to the horrified spectators to take personal form, and sweep mockingly down upon piles o' massive marble, which seemed to disappear in the twinkling of an eye. Including streets, an area of three and a third square miles was burned over. The number of buildings destroyed was more than 17,000, while 100,000 people were rendered homeless. About 200 persons lost their lives. It is estimated that the actual property loss, not including depreciation of real estate or delay-, ing of business, amounted to nearly 5200,000,000, upon which comparatively little insurance was recovered. So remarkable is the energy of the people of the Garden City, that business was not long interrupted. Residences yere turned into stores, wooden buildings were extemporized, and before the first snow of winter*had fallen trade began to assume something of its wonted proportions. About three years later, July 14, 1874, another great fire swep?

FORT DEARBORN, 1830.

over the devoted city, destroying sixty acres, or eighteen blocks, in the heart of the city, and about £4,000,000 of property. The “great fire” ruined thousands of people, and broke up and forever destroyed no end of happy homes. So far as the city was concerned, however, it proved a substantial benefit. The Chicago of ante-fire days contained many handsome and costly buildings, but they were interspersed with others of a poor kind, the entire effect being in no sense striking. The Chicago of 1890 is the finest-built city of America, and, many well-informed people say, of the world. Progress and improvement is now more than ever before the watchword. Buildings to which tho Chicagoan poirited with pride a dozen years ago are now being torn down, to be replaced with magnificent structures of from twelve to sixteen stories in height. In many regards Chicago leads all competitors. Its manufactories are enormous. It is the greatest grain, cattle, hog, cured meat, and lumber market in the world. As a railroad center it has no rival on the globe. Its system of parks and driveways leads those of the entire earth.

It has one great advantage over the older cities. This is unlimited space, which enables Industrious and thrifty workers of all kinds to possess houses of their own. The city at present includes 174 square miles within its limits and bids fair to extend them before many years have passed by. To enumerate the remarkable institutions of tho Chicago of to-day, lts 1,T00,C00 people, would require a volume or a long series of articles. After all, wrlt-

A WOLF HUNT IN EARLY DAYS.

ingconveys but a poor idea of the situation. To fully appreciate or even realize the immensity and grandeur of the city by the lake, it must be visited by all who desire to keep, in any sense, abreast of the wonderful march which our civilization is making in these latter days. Dwight Baldwin. CmcAoo, 111.

Bottled Sugar.

The author of “Under the Punkah” tells an amusing incident or his life in India. He had given to a tame monkey a lump of sugar inside a corked bottle. The monkey was of an inquiring mind, and the effort to get at the mystery—and the sugar—nearly killed him. Sometimes, in an impulse of disgust, he would throw the bottle clear out of his reach, and then be distracted until it was given back to him. At other times he would sit with a countenance of the most intense dejection, contemplating the bottled sugar, and then, as if pulling himself together for another effort at solution, would sternly take up the problem afresh and gaze into the bottle. He would tilt; it up one way and try td dtfnk the sugar through the cork, and, then, suddenly reversing it, try to catch the sugar as it fell out at the bottom. Under the impression that he could catch it by surprise, he kept rapping his teeth against the glass in futile bites, and, warming to the pursuit of the revolving lump, used to tie himself into regular knots arOund the bottle. Fits of the most ludicrous melancholy would alternate With these spasms of furious speculation, and how the matter would have ended it is quite impossible to say. But the monkey got loose one night and took the bottle with him; and it has always been a delight to me to think that whole forestfuls of monkeys hare by this time puzzled themselves into fits over the great problem of bottled sugar. •>i* f —"" *» t If money could be borrowed as easily *ss trouble tne world would be full of round-shouldered people.

WOMAN'S RIGHT VERSUS WOMAN'S RIGHTS.

BY ANNA CERES FRITSCH.

Zlk ET thos# aMB among our sis- ? f Iters who are ** t/m I dissatisfied bofr 11| caQse we &I 6 ■j IJ || not permitted \A (I if to cast the bal--1 ll * ot ’ an who j I iff think that we l —/ are not enjoy\—ing our proper * measure of yJeSJfcßJj&i'ights because V r * =, *YV we are debar-* V—j?)/ f re d from hold* p U biic offlees of all

kinds, stop to reflect. Are we not now enjoying all the rights we can possibly exercise, without burdening ourselves with political cares and worry ? We have so many rights that God, custom, and nature give ns that most truly womanly women wxrald not know what to do with rights that now belong to the male citizen only. We have the right to cultivate the talents and gifts that God has measured out to us; we have the right to make a careful study of our own mental and moral,peculiarities, faults and weaknesses of disposition; the right to nourish and develop all that is good and beautiful within us; and to weed out those qualities which tend to make us unhappy and to darken the lives of those with whom we come in contact. We have the light to comfort the afflicted and to carry sunshine into hearts darkened by sorrow. In most homes the mother wields a greater influence over the children than does the father, and here we find a golden opportunity for exercising woman’s rights—the right to train up our children to true manhood and womanhood.

And we have the right to be “the power behind the thronethat is, by virtue of coaxing, teasing, and pouting, to induce our husbands and fathers to let us follow “our own sweet .will.” We have the right to bear trials and misfortune with patience and fortitude, and we have the right to order our lives so that our children “shall rise up and call us blessed.” And the very men who now grasp the ballot tightly, and would prevent feminine hands from casting it, are among those who would willingly and gladly accord woman a degree of power of which she may well be proud. Let a woman step into an assembly of men given to degraded habits, uncouth manners and coarse language. She need have no fear of having her fastidious taste offended by rude conduct, or that unseemly language will jar upon her ear. Why is it that this one refined woman can hold all these men in check during her presence among them ? Simply because they willingly and spontaneously afecord her the right and power that belong to womanhood. In view of all these rights, dear to every feminine heart, can we afford to take upon ourselves still more, and with them the duties they impose ? And there is more to be considered in connection with the suffrage question. It is unquestionably true that a woman has the legal right to do a great many things that are usually expected of the male only. It is also true that a sense of fitness and womanly dignity prevents most of us from attempting them. But to those women who groan because they are not permitted to fill public offices which they could not grace, and W'hich would be no honor to them, we quote the words of Dr. Holland: “A woman certainly has the right to raise a mustache and sing bass if she wants to, but while I confess that every woman has a right to sing bass, I should not care to see it exercised to any great extent, for I think treble is by all odds the finer and more attractive part of music. Bass would be a bad thing for a cradle song, and could only silence the baby by scaring it. I will admit all the political rights that any woman claims, if she will only let me alone and keep her distance from me; she may sing bass, but I do not wish to hear her.” Dr. Holland expresses our view exactly. Verily. Jlf we properly exercise the rights we have now, we shall have our , hearts, hands, and brains so full that we shall not find time to wish for more.

The Assessed Valuation of the Goat.

McCorkle (the nowlv appointed real estate assessor on his rounds) —There, Misthur O’Toole, Oi’ye put in the primises at S2O a phut front and the goat at $lO, O’Toole—Phat the divil hev yez to do wid the goat ? He isn’t rale istate. McCorkle—Oh, he isn’t he! Don’t yez attimpt to interfere wid me dooties, Misthur O’Toole. Oi hev the law an’ Oi know me bizness. Mo instrooctions is to ‘assiss at a fair valuation all rale property boundin’ and abuttin’ on both sides av the strate.’ Oi’ve been watchin’ the baste, an’ it’s many a time hev Oi seen ’im a boundin’ and a buttin’ on both sides av the strate. It will be tin dollars, Misthur O’Toole.

Inspiration Gone.

Friend—How are you succeeding at your joke writing, Somberlie? Sr mherlie (the humoi jet) V er j well, but lam afr ill slia’i ’t continue iUJJg so. “Why not?”. “Weil, you see, it’s just this way. I write my best jokes when I’m feeling Lluest, when my manuscripts are returned, for instance; but now the editors accept my jokes so readily that I don’t feel blue enough to write more.” —Yankee Blade. An Ohio clergyman surprised his congregation last Sunday by making the following announcement: “I would remind you, brethren, that the collection plate is not a nickol-iu-the-slQt machine, and that a few bills would come in very handy in the work of the church.” The man who is so busy that has ti> time to laugh a vacation.