Democratic Sentinel, Volume 16, Number 44, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 18 November 1892 — Page 8 Advertisements Column 1 [ADVERTISEMENT]

TRUSTEE’S NOTICE. Notice is hereby given that I will be al my office at John'A. Knowlton’e, in Jotdan township, oi the Fourth Saturday of each month for the transaction of business connected with tba duties of Trustee. JAMES H. CARR, Trustee Jordan Townshin

FICTITIOUS characters. There Is <Jften Found a Parallel to Them in Real Life. There it rarely a circumstance or character invented by the imagination that does not find its parallel in real life. A year or more ago a writer described In a story the adventures and vicissitudes of an erring lad who ran away from home to follow the sea. The tale Was pure fiction, and the author invented for his young sailor a name unlike any he had ever heard. Soon after the story was published its author received a pathetic letter from a sorrowing mother, saying that the sailor boy o the story was her only eon, and begging for his address. “Tell him," ehe wrote, "if he will only come home I w 11 forget and forgive all the past. lam alone in the world, and If my dear son will but return to me I will be happy again.’ It was hard to write to this poor mother that the sailor boy of the story, whose name, adventures and life so closely resembled her son's, was but a creature of the imagination. “While addressing a jury in a criminal case a few years ago, said a lawyer, “I made up the following story to Illustrate the need of coolness and calm judgment before condemning a man: “A passenger train was pulling into the station of a small town. The driver had seen many years of continuous service on that particular bit of line and had never failed to keep his engine at a certain point. One day a great celebration was held in the town, and when that train came in the line ahead of the point where the engine always stepped was crowded with people. No one feared being run over, so great was the confidence in the driver's ability to stop his engine at a particular spot. ’But, alas! on this day the heavy train was not stopped, but continued its course, running over a woman, who, hampered with a baby in her arms, was not agile enough to get out of the way. At first the crowd stood aghast; and then a great wave of indignation broke forth against the man who had done this thing. “The driver stood on his step, white and speechless—helpless against the fury oi the mob. “Wait!’ cried the fireman. ‘See this!’ and he held up a broken bolt. ‘Here is the cause of the accident—a broken bolt at the throttle.’ "I believe I won my case with a little bit of fiction, and what do you think? After the court had adjourned a grayhaired old gentleman came forward, and grasping my hand, exclaimed: “ ‘You told that story well! I was in the crowd at the time of the accident anti saw the whole thing.’ ”

Not Such a Jay as He Seemed. I was in a Memphis office years ago, says an experienced telegraph operator, when Thomas A. Edison applied for a position. He came walking into the office one morning, looking like a veritable hayseed. He wore a hickory shirt, a pair of butternut pants tucked into the tops of boots a size too large and guiltlesss of blacking. “Where's the boss?” was his query, as he glanced around the office. No one replied at once, and he repeated the question. The manager asked him what he could do for him, and the future great man proceeded to strike him for a Job. Business was rushing and the office was two men short, so almost any kind of a lightning-slinger was welcome. He was assigned to a desk and a fusillade of winks went the rounds of the office, for the “jay* was put on the St. Louis wire, the hardest in the office. At the St Louis end of the line was an operator who was chain lightning and knew it Edison had hardly got seated before St. Louis called. The new-comer responded and St Louis started in on a long report, and he pumped it In like a house afire. Edison threw his leg over the arm of his chair, leisurely transferred a wad of spruce gum from his pocket to his mouth, picked up a pen, examined it critically, and started in about2oo words behind. He didn’t stay there long though. St Louis let out another link of speed, and still another, and the instrument m Edison’s table hummed like an old-style Singer sewing machine. Every man in the office left his desk and ail gathered around the ‘jay* to see what he was doing with that electric cyclone. Well, sir, he was right on the word, and was putting it down in the prettiest copper-plate hand you avet saw, even crossing his t’s, dotting bls i’s and punctuating with much care. St Louis got tired by and by, and be,gan to slow down. Edison opened the key mad said: “Here, here! this is no primer xlass! Get a hustle on you!* Well, sir, /hat broke St. Louis all up. He had been “rawhiding” Memphis for a long timejmd we were terribly sore, and to have a man in our office that could walk all over him made us feel like a man whose herse had won the derby. ‘ Do Yon Believe <TMaf Did you ever consider how muo|i time a man expends to keep himself presentable? was the question asked by a practical American the other day. A man with any beard at all, he continued, must shave at least three times a week. This means a waste of ten hoars a •month, or twelve good working days to 'the rear. Fifteen minutes a day the •ootblack stand, will knock nearly ten more vgorking days out of the year, how figure up the time spent tying his . ravat, fishing collar buttons from under the dresser and ir various other ways to tike general “get up* of a man, not of fashion hot of affairs, and ;m thatha 4*