Rensselaer Journal, Volume 10, Number 42, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 28 March 1901 — A Parody on “The Bridge.” [ARTICLE]

A Parody on “The Bridge.”

y 111 In the opinion of those most competent to judge, Benjamin Harrison will figure in history as one of our ablest Presidents. When Grover Cleveland, Dave Hill, and Billy Bryan get to flocking together, it will be time to look out for a united and rejuvenated democratic party. Andrew Carnegie has been suggested for Mayor of New York City, but the residents of the big town are not likely to have such good fortune thrust upon them. If the Cubans are let alone they will sooner or later realize the folly of failing to comply with the conditions im ported by Congress for the withdrawal American authority. . The sooner the Cubans accept our conditions the sooner outside capital will seek investment in their industries. If they“can stand an indefinite continuance of present conditions, we certainly can

From February 18, to March 15, Amrew Carnegie gave away $11,495,(FOO, $5,000,000 for pensions for empl iyes of the Carnegie Steel Co., and tije remainder for libraries. If he keeps up that lick there is no danger o' his committing the “crime” of <i> ing too rich. A German physician is out with a leai neu treatise showing that marriage is conductive to longer lives both for en and women; but it is necessary, according to him. to stay married, as h finds that widows and widowers i live any longer than bachelors and spinsterk. The prophets who have known for years that the British Empire would tumble to pieces at the death of Queen Victoria, are now predicting that the Austrian Empire will end with the death of Emperor Francis Joseph, and that there will be a civil war for the control of Mexico as soon as President Diaz dies. , Uncle Sam likes to see the little American republics stand up for all ~ that is coming to them, but Venezuela is in danger of getting spanked for being to cocky. Instead of answering our demand for an an apology for the imprisonment without just cause of a U. S. consular- agent, Venezuela has imprisoned him for the second time. Every big newspaper has a surepop way of settling the trouble in China, with credit to this government and an increase in American trade with the Chinese, but unfortunately no two of them are alike. Meantime, the people are perfectly satisfied to leave the matter in President McKinley’s hands, knowing that he will do all that should be done.

The world buys where it can get the best and the cheapest. Until that phrase of human nature undergoes a change we have nothing to fear from European jealousy of American commercial supremacy. Chairman Agnew, of the Virginia republican, state committee, predicts that the proposed disfranchisement of negroes will prove to be a democratic boomerang, and will makf&he sta e permanently republican on national issues. B. S. Fendig has just received a car of oyster shells from Baltimore from the manufacturers and is now prepared to sell it at 75c per 100. Oyster shell is essential to the health of poultry. It is also a great egg producer and no one raising poultry should be withont it. In 100 lb. lots 75c. 4t

I sprang out of bed at midnight, As the clocks were striking the hour, And the moon shone o’er the barnyard, With brilliancy and power. I heard the horses kicking, As distinctly as could be, So I on with my pants in a minute, And ran to the barn to see. And far in the hazy distance. Of that lovely night in June, I saw the bright beams twinkle As they slid down from the moon. Under the long, black rafters Was a ton of bull-grass hay, As coarse as the weeds from the ocean, We had put in the mow that day. I walked into that stable, T’was as dark as dark could be, For I forgot to take my lantern Out to the barn with me. Each horse was standing quiet, <, As I groped, each stall to pass, I could hear their grinders crunching That marshy long stemmed grass. I climbed the hay-mow ladder ’ .Among the the wooden beams. And a flood of thoughts come over me, Of ghosts Pd seen in dreams. Then down the ladder rushing, I made for the open door, When an Angora goat in ambush Drifted me a yard from the floor. He sent me through that doorway, I landed on my side, For laying there in the noonlight, So mad I almost cried. My heart was hot and restless, And my mind was full of care, For the pain the goat had given Seemed greater than I could bear. How often, O how often, As the pain shot through my head, And the anger rose in my bosom, I wished that goat was dead. The moon in its broken reflection Was at zenith overhead, When I dusted my coat and breeches, Went home and crawled in bed. 6 Yet whenever I cross that door-sill, Or that son of a goat appears With his odor of brine from the ocean, Comes the though of other years. And forever and forever, As long as the bull grass grows, As long as the heart has passions, As long as life has woes. I think how many thousands Of care encumbered men, At lodge initiation, Have rode the goat since then.