Democratic Sentinel, Volume 16, Number 18, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 20 May 1892 — Odd Bits of Life. [ARTICLE]

Odd Bits of Life.

John Glendenniug, the actor, left Lambs’ Club yesterday afternoon about 5 o’clock, says the New York World. He crossed the street to speak to a friend,, and thence proceeded on the north side of Twentysixth street toward Broadway, where he picked up a disabled Sparrow. Holding the wounded bird in his hand, he saw that its leg was broken. In front of him, at 9 West Twentysixth street, he saw the sign of Dr. Chichester. He entered. The physician, a kind-hearted man, suggested chloroform. “I’d like to tame they bird,” remarked Mr. Glendenning, “but if it’s leg is broken I fear that settles it.” Still holding the injured sparrow, Mr. Glendenning and the Doctor walked into the Hoffmann House. Here were Col. Ingersoll, Maurice Barrymore, Nat Goodwin, Marshall P. Wilder, and several other people. They looked at the injured bird critically. The 'closer examination showed that its wing was fract? ured and that some third-story marksman had cruelly torn the bird with shot. It lay panting. “Follow the Doctor’s advice,” said Mr. Ingersoll, and tho party adjourned to Caswell & Hazard’s drug Store, at the corner of Twenty-fifth street and Broadway, whore Clerk McDowell brought out a big blue bottle of chloroform and a sponge with a circular aperttire, ThS head of the suffering sparrow was laid ther9jn, chloroform was poured on tho sponge,' and Glendenhing announced the results. “Feebler,” he said—“ Hardly at all”—“The heart has ceased to beat." Still holding the little corpse the octet left the' drug store. “Give us an obituary,” remarked Bai’rymorc; “Just a line, Colonel.”; Iqgersoll thought a mor meat and thon wrote: it’s little he'll reck If they'll let him sleep In tho grave where an aetqr haa laid him. “We can’t put him in an ash-bar-rel,” remarked Mr. Goodwin. “Why not tho churchyard of Trinity Chanel?” Inquired Mr. Glendenning. Each man looked at his neighbor and said nothing, but the unanimity of that look spoko louder than words. As they turned tho comer of Twentysixth street Glendonning and his Sexton, who shall be nameless, left the others a little behind, The colored man who attends tho ladies’ entrance to tho St. James, which overlooks the churchyard, seemed to have an idea that all was not right. Ho was approached and willingly loaned a little tiro shovel. The > “sexton” dug the grave, the sparrow was interred, the earth smoothed over him, atid lb ground worth thousands of dollars a foot tho little bird was laid at rest.