Rensselaer Republican, Volume 14, Number 48, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 17 August 1882 — The Man With the Umbrella. [ARTICLE]

The Man With the Umbrella.

Why it is that the public do not look kindly upon a man carrying an umbrella in a hot day is a mystery yet to be solved, but the fact is they do not, and that not one man in a hundred has the moral courage to carry one. Yesterday, when an eminent and dignified citizen coming back from his dinner turned into Griswold street with an umbrella over his head, he was accosted with: “Been raining down your way?” “No, sir.” “Going to?” “No, sir.” “Then vcu carry the umbrella to keep the flies off?” “Yes, sir.” “Well, that’s a good plan, and all soft men ought to practice it.” The next man had a grin on his face as he called out: “What’s that for?” “To keep the sun off.” “What do you want to keep the sun off for?” “Might get sunstrack.” “Suppose you did?” “Suppose you mind your business, sir?” The next one presumed upon his long friendship to halt the man with the umbrella and whisper: “Pretty sharp in you, old fellow—keep the bulge towards your creditors, and they can’t see you!” Other men told him that a poultice on the head would dispense with the umbrella, and others said if he was afraid of his ears being tanned he should fasten a fan on each side of his hat Not one single man took him by the hand and encouraged him, and when he reached the postoffice he was so discouraged that he lowered his shade and used it to punch the ribs of a boy who had begun to sing: “He’s a flat—he’s a feller, And he lugs au old umbrella.” —Free Press. A suicide under very painful circumstance occured, in the express train running between Havre and Rouen. On opening the door of a coupe at the latter station, one of the employes perceived a man lying on the floor, bathed in blood, quite dead, and with a revolver at his side. The corpse was immediately borne to a private room, and inquiries were instituted, which led to the knowledge that the deceased was M. Warenhorst, a wealthy Havre merchant, who married a few years ago a widow whose husband was supposed to have been killed during the commune. A child was born, and the happiness of the couple was complete, when, to their horror, it was found that one of the amnestied communists who have returned in the Navarin was this identical man. The shock was too great. M. Warenhorst’s brain was unable to bear it, and it was while under the influence of his first impulse of grief and shame that he put an end to his own life. *»* “ Necessity is the mother of invention.’* Diseases of the liver, kidneys and bowels brought forth that sovereign remedy, Kid-ney-Wort, which is nature's normal curative for all those dire complaints. In either liquid or dry form it is a perfect remedy for those terrible diseases that cause so many deaths.