Rensselaer Republican, Volume 15, Number 45, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 19 July 1883 — Page 2

NEGRO CORNBHUCKING. f— Com, grab up a rail an’ Bln j It 'crow de corn. Siny er jurangi, ho; Ter mat beat de udder squad Jes' as shore's \ yar born, bins er juranri, ho; B* Guinea nirgcr m(:c'[ iilce 8 -aimin' a squir'J, • Hn« er jqrangi, ho; Ks«9»«te corn In de air In a reg lar 'whirl, blag Cf Jhlrirasi, ho; An’ er rake dem shucks back, lioun' hii de corn. Put de nubbins in de feed sack, • Doan yjr hear my hern? ff atria de yaller nigger, fur he’s gwine fur to Cheat, Bing er juranirl, ho; WtFn got a lo ob corn dar, un’er his feet, Bing cr jurangi, ho; We's diggin" like a hen er scratchin’ for de bug, Bing er 'jurangi, ho; Pas cot a reel year, come, gimme dat jug, Bing er jurangi, ho; An’ er dar. we’s Bonn’ beat yer. Put up de pen. Thought couldn't meet yer— Foolin' wld men. —Arkansaw Traveler.

Love AND FOOTLIGHTS.

»t GEORGIAS.V FEATHEIiSTONHAUGtt Slowly the sun’s last beams ceased to fiood the quivering waters of the bay, leaving only the red and purple tints •f the sky to reflect their, mingled color? upon the tranquil surface. The tinkling note of a tinte or the soft cadence of a voice floated dreamily up from some idly-tossing pleasure boat to Idle ears of those who had sought the shade of the overhanging trees of the garden. Pierre Andree and his companion had, like many others, succumbed to the peaceful, calm influence cf this summer garden. What an inviting place it was; so apart from the ■moke and heated atmosphere of the Anafty streets. Here the grass was crisp and green, and the loaves of the trees seemed to shine as if bathed in so eternal dew. It was the right place for one to think ftnd collect his scattered ideas; as it was also a fitting spot Ik a seeker after the picturesque. But Pierre Andree and his companion were sot seekers after the picturesque, aeithor had they any ideas in particular to collect. Pierre’s broad hand was resting idly upon the yellow moroccocover of his note-book from which he bad been reviewing to Adele his last criticism upon Mile. Lorraine, the latest star of the ballet. The danseuse par excellence, over whom men raved, and the women who looked disinterestedly upon the alinost-aiagical weaving of her arched feet, could but admire. Pierre Andree, too, had beheld this wonderful danseuse, and his eyes had rested indifferently upon the beauty so extolled by the press. He hail been disappointed, and the criticism which bad appeared regarding her first performance was not calculated to impress those m iio reli <1 in a mi asure upon the •pinion of another. None ever questioned the truth of the criticisms as they appeared in the columns of the Indejteudeni World. His reputation was an established one, and liis keen sarcasms were much dreaded by those who fell a victim to liis relentness pen, and this Mile. Lorraine had not escaped. Her short-comings—perceived only by the quick eye of a connoisseur—had been dissected point by point by the pen of Pierre Andree, as tue lifeless body of some poor mortal i i parted asunder by Hie keen-edged knife of the surgeon. “What do you think of it?” he asked, closing the book and putt ng it iuts his pocket.

“Whitt—tlio criticism or the justice «rs it?” the girl naked; then, without waiting for a reply, “I have never seen Mile. Loraine dance, but I tl* nk it very cruel and just like Pierre Andree; a lew more such would sap the youth end happiness rom the life of the most hardened woman on earth.” The red Ups formed themselves into a pout as •he finished speaking, and she looked defiantly at the man at her side. “Why do you think me cruel?” Pierre asked, with a lazy indolence in h» voice. Adele laughed. “It woyld take me too long to give you an analysis of your great nature,” she returned, breaking a bunch of linden blossoms from qne of the low-hanging branches overhead. “This is sweet; I know there is no bitterness iu its overpowering perfume as it flings it to the winds, and the old tree from which it sprung gives only protection to those who seek its sliei“Really, Adele. you shame me with jour eloquence. Why should you take up tlie wrongs of Mile. Lorraine? Such people expect to be criticized; a Stile more or less does not harm them.” Adele looked off over the waters of the bay. “I suppose you think liecause «hej wre thrown upon the world and dance before the footlights to earn their daily bread their feelings must neeesaariaUy be of adamantine hardness, ipnervious to the cold world, who have naming to do but pay their paltry entrance money, and sit in an upholstered •oat and watch them dance., never draamin'g that in the automatic-like tune there is such a thing ns feeling, •raheart whose everv emotion is as Jfcaen as their own.” Her eyes were aparkling and her lips quivering. She spoke rapidlv, impulsively. “Spare me Adel?, I beg of you, and Apromise that the uext time I*visit the theater to see Mile Lorraine, the draaaatic critic, metaphorically speaking, wall have cut off both his hands, and put out both eyes, for all that the Inmpendmt will haye to say about her, •m you satisfied ma chore aimee. ” Addle laughed and shrugged her dheulders. “Pray, do not lessen the fatwrest of the Independent World\ on areount of my slight burst of enttnaiam in) behalf of Mile. Lorraine, Itaddeß it might jeopardize your posiKerre Andree picked up~h handful as pebbles and tosged them into the thw waters of the bay. ‘‘Will you

visit this garden often, and think of me a Jittle when I am gone away on my vacation?” he ftsked, turning the subject and looking into her half-averted face. "What do you call often ?” • she replied. without returning his gaze, but watched the miniature bubbles upon the surface of the water. “Well, every day until I return,” he said, taking her hand. How strange it was, he had known this woman but one short week, yet a few moments in her society was more pleasant to him than hours spent among women who ranked far higher in the social world, and whose beauty surpassed this frail young girl’s twofold. Was he, Pierre Andree, losing his heart because of the sweet smile and defiant ways of this young stranger, whom ho had met by chance in the pretty garden. He smiled to himself. Why could not a man spend a few idle hours in the society of this woodland beauty without losing his heart. “Every day until you return, two long months,” she said at length. “The rainy ones I suppose I must sit under an umbrella, and when the thermometer marks ninety in the shade, I can wear a cold cabbage leaf in my hat, but my watch I will keep; bat would that satisfy you, Monseur Pierre Andree, and in what way can I be assured that I will be remembered by you,” she questioned,.looking inquiringly up into his face.

Her pure loveliness touched him. Again he took the delicate hand, but she withdrew it quickly. “Give me the flower, and I will carry it with me, and its presence will always be a reminder of the bright days spent here. ” Adele held the flower for a moment and inhaled its fragrance, then threw it upon the ground and planted her foot upon it. “When its beauty began tg fade all memories would die with it,” sl/e said. “Its leaves would wither and die, then drift one bv one from their resting place, and other scenes and other faces would obliterate my image from your mind.” “Jamais, jamais!” Pierre said, impatiently. “Adele, you do me a great injustice. You do not believe in me. What have I ever done to make you so skeptical? Why do you imagine that in two short months I could forget the pleasantest, nay, the happiest, days of my life?” “Have they beei\ all that?” she asked. “Without me would you not have found the same in the trees and flowers and the wide bay?” she asked, naively. Pierre Andree frowned. “What a foolish question. You know that it has been your presence alone that lias caused the brightness of the hours. ” The girl arose suddenly. “It is growing quite late. I can see the mist begin to rise over the water.” "Will you come 'to-morrow at this time?” he asked, rising top; “there are but three days left before I start, and we cannot tell what might happen before we meet again.” Adele shook her head. “Not to-mor-row,” she said. “Won’t the next day do ns well?"

“Oh, well, the uext, then,” Pierre replied, coldly, “if you cannot come tomorrow.” Adele flushed and walked hurriedly away, but a heavy band was laid upon her shoulder. It was Pierre Andree. “You are angry, Adele,“ he said. “Do not look at me so cruelly.” He seized her hand. “I was mad to let you go. Promise me, Adele, that when I return you will be my wife.” She looked at him curiously. “Do you mean it, Pierre?” she said. “Do you know what you are saying, and do you remember how brief lias been our acquaintance ?” “I do mean it, Adele, believe me,” he answered, hurriedly. The spell was upon him; at that moment he would have sacrificed his all. Adele’s eyes sought the ground. “I cannot answer you now,” she said; “when we meet again I will tell you. A day Avill give you time to think it over.” Her hand trembled in his clasp. Her paleface wore an unusual Hush, and her eyes sparkled. She slipped her hand from his detaining one, and ere he eou'd speak again she was gone. Had he been rash? Pierre Andree asked himself as he'sauntered down the street that night, on his way to .the West End Theater. He was seized with an uncontrollable restlessness. How could he spend the time that was to intervene between that day and the day after to-morrow. It was with difficulty that he made his way to the vacant seat that remained unoccupied until his arrival. His eyes roved over over the densely-packed house. Perhaps he might see Adele somewhere among all these people, and read in her countenance 11 is answer. But the faces of the audience seemed comingled into one indistinct mass. He threw himself into his seat. He saw the curtain rise and fall upon every scene, but his thoughts were not with the fairy-like creature who courtesied and kissed the tips of her pink fingers, then disappeared from the boards, Should he be presented, Pierre asked himself,as the curtain fell upon the last scene. Should he be presented to this creature who ha!d the power to dazzle the eyes and rivet the attention of the hundreds of people gathered there, He decided in the affirmative, and soon found himself walking nervously toward the green room; but upon his arrival there he was told that Mile. Lorraine had gone. It was the obliging little managor who volunteered tlie information, as he stood gazing up into the face of Pierre so far above him, his small round bald head scarcely reaching to his broad shoulder, while the gleam of his white teeth from beneath his ferocious mus-

tache gave him a rather startling appearance. Pierre left the theater and walked out into the night. He did not feel one regret for Mile. Lorraine’s departure, but he hated the little manager. The next day dawned and faded. Pierre walked through the garden with a faint hope of seeing Adele, but no trace of her greeted his eyes. The last day came, and he watched the sun as it slowly crept behind the tall lindens; again Pierre Andree visited the garden, but Adele was not in her accustomed place. The shadows began to creeping over the grass of the garden, and the waters looked dark. Pierre whistled softly to himself, as the idlers one by one left the place until only he himself and an old woman, who sat with her chin resting upon her cane, crooning to herself in a low voice, were left. What did it mean? Perhaps some uiiforseen accident had detained her, he tried to tell himself, as he left the shadowy garden. He felt the bitterness of regret creep over him. Her absence now, as perhaps no other cause would have done, made the uncertainty gl ow into a conviction. Yes, he had really lost his heart to this young girl, who piqued, yet fascinated, him. Pierre Andree reviewed the matter over in his mind again and again, as he stood gazing at the sea of heads below him. It was the last night of Mile. Lorraine’s engagement, and within, the great theater was packed to its utmost. The air that floated in at the open window failed to penetrate those who were seated at a distance. Fan, programme, and an occasional hat kept up an incessant waving to and fro. The footlights flickered and danced, with an uncertain motion, against the ruined arches, tall pines, and the deep blue of the river, painted upon the curtain. The music burst forth in a wild tumult from the orchestra, then fell to a low, throbbing tone, as if played in the distant towers which seemed to stand so far away upon the bank of the rolling river.

There were many familiar facesVto Pierre in that crowd, and, as he stood and counted those whom he knew, the one he had vowed never to forget,, Jarnaiß’ Jamais’ faded from his mind. Two people jostled past him, a man and a woman. Pierre grasped the back of a seat against which he was standing, and the word “Ad le,” escaped his lips. Their eyes met for a moment, but she passed him unheeded. He raised his glass and watched fhem as they threaded their way to a seat near the orchestra. Pierre, too, sought his own, but only to watch the woman who had deceived him. The massive curtain slowly rolled upward, and revealed the stage in darkness, all save the flare of the footlights, and the white, phantomlike figure, that swayed to the time of the throbbing music, her dainty whiteslippered feet scarcely seeming to touch the boards beneath her. Poising her lithe form upon the. tip of her slender toe, she whirled round and round with such swiftness of motion that she appeared but a ball of thistle down, lost among the wooded forest of the scenery. For a moment, Pierre Andree forgot Adele, his eyes were following the swaying figure, as hundreds of other eyes were doing. The whirling ceased, and the red glare of a calcium light from the left shot suddenly upon the stage, while the dainty feet of the danseuse threaded the measure of some wondrous dance, such as had never before greeted the gaze of the breathless throng. Fans coased to wave, even the heated atmosphere was unheeded; few had ever witnessed such dancing. What mortal, but one whose happiness was like eternal spring, could dance thus.

Though the twinkling feet in their enigmatical motion beguiled their beholder into forgetfulness of their cares and sorrows, did one man or woman pause to think that one feeling of anguish ever stirred the heart that throbbed beneath the satin bodice. There was a flash of green light, as the red glare faded anvay, then a report, as of the bursting of a bomb, startled thejears of the packed audience. The great curtain fell with a dull thud, raising a cloud of dust as it reached the stage before the foot-lights. Pierre Andree remaiued seated in tlie rush that followed. In the crush of the mad crowd was injury and perhaps death. He saw the little baldheaded manager step before the curtain, and heard him assure the panicstricken people that there was no danger. “Only a calcium light had exploded,” he tried to say in a calm voice. Pierre Andree’s eyes sought for Adele and her companion. "What magical power had brought her so close to him, he wondered, as he turned and perceived her standing near him. “Adele,” he said, in a scarcely-audlble whisper; again for a moment tbeir eyes met. He saw that her face was pale, and her lips quivered, but she only passed him quickly by him, and he saw her disappear into the door leading upon the stage. Hurried footsteps were heard be-" hind the curtain. Surely, in all that crash and confusion, some one must have suffered. Pierre walked to the door and opened it. The gas jets flared in the wind that blew in through the broken windows, and the clou*ds of dust had riot yet disappeared. He“ went to tlie green room with a feeling of dread. There fragments of glass cracked beneath his feet, a flimsy piece of tinsel, a bit of tarlatan and a small wliitri slipper lay in a heap upon the flaor. Pierre Andree’s heart seemed to cease its beating as he neared the silent group, gathered about the sofa. What was it that caused the blood to leave his cheek, as he bent over ? It was the face of Adele, his little garden flower. Her black-fringed lashes drooped upon her colorless' Cheeks, and her small

hands kiting lifelessly at her side, whiles «ie »h*nan yfrhonr* he had watched so intents 41mA evening, knelt with lier head bowel beside the silent figure. Pierre started back, he felt like one grasping in the darkness. How alike both faces were? which was Adele? he asked himself. For a moment the dark lashes quivered and the elosed eyes opened. P err? Andree drew back, and as he did so the little manager came hurriedly into the room, and threw himself upon his knees beside the sofa. “Adele, Adele,” he cried taking her hand, “Look at your dear Adolphus who loves you better than all the world; only speak to me one word.” He buried bis face in the green upholstry and wept loud and passionately. Pierre passed liis hand across his vision which had suddenly become misty. He felt detrop. How different was this man’s love for Adele expressed from liis own. In his tones were the fervor of a deeplyrooted passion, and how cold his had been by comparison. He turned away. “Has Mile. Lorraine a sister,” he asked of a by-stander. The man nodded; “They were twins, and no more difference between them than two peas.” As Pierre Andree turned to go his foot came in contact with the small white slipper that had encased the magical little foot. He stooped and picked it up and dropped it into his pocket, and with a sigh left the greenroom, and walked out into the peacefulness of the summer night. It was only a chapter in his life’s history, but somehow his heart never quite ceased to beat for Adele, liis little garden flower.— Chicago Ledger.

The Vigilantes.

Four well-known citizens organized themselves into a vigilance committee for the purpose of arresting some burglars that had committed a number of depredations in the vicinity of their residences. They met together and swore themselves on a skull and three Bibles. They got up tlieir pass-words, signs and grips, so that each would recognize the other in the dark under any circumstances. They armed themselves with revolvers, slug shots, bowie knives, brass knuckles and bulls-eye lanterns. The thing worked well, as they were near neighbors, and they talked the thing over every night for a month. One dark night, one of the number heard a noise on the front window. He hastily jumped into his clothing, and ran out of his repr door, jumped over the fence and rapped three times on the basement window of another member’s house. Just then he heard some one say: “Sick him Tige,” and fearing he had been taken for a burglar, made a break for the fence, but not any too soon, as Tige had been on the alert, and succeeded in gettiug a mouthful of pantaloons. Over the fence went the vig-ilante and soon appeared at the door of another member’s house. Here he scratched softly, three times, and, hearing the noise of a clicking revolver, again flew the vigilante, over fences, barns, etc., through alleys, until he reached his own house. With a catlike tread, he sneaked along, up the steps, and had commenced to try the windows and door to see if the burglars had been successful, when three bull dogs darted out and attacked him from all sides. Bang, bang, bang, went some pistols from neighboring windows. The thing was getting hot. The dogs chawed him all over, and soon would have finished the vigilante, but one dog got the other dog by the leg, by mistake, and they got up a fight between themselves, during which time the vig'lante succeeded in getting into the house a badly used-up man. It afterwards transpired that, when he scratched on the back doors of the other- members’ houses, each thought it was burglars. They slid out the front doors, and went for the others, and when they saw the first member prowling around, examining his own windows, they let out their dogs with the above result. The committee disbanded the next dav. — Carl PretzeTs Weekly. '

Advice to Swimmers.

The following advice to swimmers and bathers is given in the report of the Royal Humane Society of Great Britain: On the subject of bathing the committee recommend to the notice of the public a code of rules published bjr the society, entitled “Caution to Bathers.” These have been drawn up and signed mv medical officers of the Royal Humane Society at the suggestion of a lady, who has for many years studied the subject and considered its importance. The following are the rules referred to: Avoid bathing within two hours after a meal. Avoid bathing when exhausted by fatigue or from any other cause. Avoid bathing when the body is cooling after perspiration. Avoid bathing altogether in the open air if, after having been a short time in the water, it causes a sense as chilliness, with numbness of the hands and feet. Bathe when the body is warm, provided no time is lost in gening into the water. Avoid chilling th*e body sitting or standing undressed on the banks or in boats after having been in the water. Avoid remaining too long in the water—leave the water immediately there is the slightest feeling of chilliness. The vigorous and strong may bathe early in the morning on an empty stomach. The young and those who are weak had better bathe two or three hours after breakfast. Those who are subject to attacks of giddiness or faintness, and those who suffer from palpitation turd other sense of discomfort at the heart, should not bathe without first consultiog their medioal adviser.

PITH AND POINT.

A hcmane equestrian will never stirrup his horse. A man fell from the roof of a barn and killed himself. He was an eavesdropper. \ When the Ohio river took to rising it only emulated the example set by tiie Ohio politician. One swallow may make a summer* but a swallow-tailed coat does not necessarily make a gentleman. How many mint juleps does it take to make a nose-gay?— Atlanta Journal. Certainly one less than nine will make it rosy-eight.— Georgia Major. What is the simplest way to keep jelly from molding on top ?— BoardingHouse Keeper. Put it on the table once in aVhile.— Philadelphia News. When a rich man dies from too much bug juice, his physician informs the world that- ffhe disease was “voluntary and responsible insanity;” when a poor man goes under from the same cause, it is called chronic alcoholism.— Carl Pretzel’B Weekly. Priest —“ Pat, I understand you are going to be married again.” Disconsolate widower—“Yis, your riv’rence.” Priest—“ But your wife, Pat, lias only been tfead two weeks.” D. W.—“Yis, your riv’rence; but shure ain’t she as dead now as she iver will be ?” Customer (to grocer)—“How much are these eggs a dozen?” “Dwentyfive cents,” replied the grocer. “Why, how’s that? Jones sells them at 20 cents.” “Und vy don’t you py ov Jones, denn?” “Because he hasn’t any this morning.” “Veil, I vill sell deim for dwenty cents too, venn I don’t got any.”

“The top of the morning to ye, Mistress Jones, ” said Patrick. “Was that young lady I saw wid ye yisterday yer sister?” “Yes, Patrick,” replied Mrs. Jones, “that was my nister.” Patrick — “And was she married, I don’t know?” Mrs. Jones: “She has been mdrried, but she’s a widow now.” Patrick—“A widdy is it? And is her hoosband. did?” An old but good story of Tom Ingoldsby (Barham ) is that he once entered a Quakers’ meeting-house,, and, looking around at the grave assembly, held up a penny tart and said solemnly: “Whoever speaks first shall have this tart.” “Go thy way,” said a drabcolored gentleman, rising, “go thy way—” “The pie’s yours,” said Tom, squeezing the raspberry treasure into the hand of the pious rebuker and walking out of the assembly. NEIGHBORS. I’ve several good neighbors. And one he has a dog; Ano h sr) as a small boy; Another keeps.a bog. Anoihsr has some pig:one; An .taer owns f-oi.e cats; t Another sea iters wildly His lately-poisoned rats. Anp;Ler comes an’d borrows My paper every day;. Another < n the cornet Is learn,ng how to playO Boone! heroic Daniel! O man who got away! I well know why you ventured 'Mid savages to stray! ■ Committee of Solicitation—“ls Mrs. Smith at home?” Mary Ann (lately landed) —“No, ma’am.” Second Lady of Committee —“How unfortunate! We wanted to see her on business. Please tell her so when you hand her these cards.” Third Lady—“ Have you any idea when she will be in ?” Mary Ann (who has been drilled for formalities only)—“Yes, ma’am; she said when she ran out on the piazza as how she’d eome right in again as’ soon as she heard the door shut. ” “Now, children,” said Mrs. Shoddy, as she finished staining their lips and chins with rouge; “now, children, after you are out a little while you must ring Mrs. Envious’ bell and pretend you’ve called to play with her little daughter. If she asks you what made the red stain on your face, tell her you had strawberries for dinner. There,” she muttered, when the ohildren were out of sight. “There, I guess she’ll be blind with envy when she thinks I have ' been able to buy strawberries at 40 cents a pint.” LOUISE. When I vex mamma, as I fear I do, t,hough not to tease her. She valnlv tries to look severe « While saying “Now, Lou'ser!" When papa, comes at nlghttall he Gives Vroetings such a a few do And calls m-, on, so tenderly. His-precious, narling “Lu-lu." Myabrothers call me ‘‘Were.” As “Lon” The girls hail me so easy. And grandma, sweetly beaming through Her "specs, says, "little Weezy.” But one w iose name I mustn’t tell. Because h - loves me nearly, Just says, “Louis',’’ which makes me—well. Love him—a llotle merely. —H. C. Hodtje.

The Ideal Onion and the Real Onion.

What ft grand thing it would be for the man with small appetite, if he could only taste the perfume of cooking. Walking in the neighborhood of an for instance, he scents afar the odor ortlie frying clam or oyster. It is dainty, piquant, aromatic. He enters the saloon, and when he commences to eat his ordered “fry” he finds •if is in tangibility ftf'hnucli different thing than it was when its odors were wafted with the air. Again, the man with a small appetite may be strolling past a German restaurant. He sniffs the odor of fried onions, and has an appetite at once. Then he orders beefsteak and onions. But he cannot eat them. The reality is so j different from the ideal. Soyer, the great French cook, used to make eatable things for tne soldiers of the French army, and amassed a fortune. The cook who will make edibles taste - as they smell in cooking has unlimited millions before' him. Do not wait for extraordinary occasions to do good actions; try to use common situations.