Rensselaer Republican, Volume 16, Number 41, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 19 June 1884 — Why He Was Thankful. [ARTICLE]

Why He Was Thankful.

The disposition of some men to look on the bright side of everything was illustrated cn a far Western road. An old gentleman had been an attentive listener to the somewhat remarkable experiences of his fellow-travelers, breaking into the culmination of each anecdote with a pious ejaculation of praise for some redeeming incident in the subject under discussion. Finally they got to setting mattery up on the man, and telling stories in which it was hard for him to find anything to be grateful for* But he managed to get there each trip, until the boys were nearly at their wits’ end. “But one of the worst I ever heard of, ” commenced one, winking at his companions to look for a smasher, “really the worst, was on the Savannah and Pensacola Road, in 1842. We ran .into a coal train, and not a soul escaped. No, not a soul! Every one was killed I” There was a moment’s pause, and every one looked at the old man to see how he would take it, “Thank heaven!” he exclaimed fervently, “thank heaven!” “What for,” demanded the relator of the story, “what are you thanking heaven for now?” “To think you were killed by that train!” ejaculated the old gentleman, rolling up his eyes. “If you had been spared, what a liar you would have been by the time you reached your present age! Thank heaven for that disaster!” And, after that, the boys let him alone.—Germantown Telegraph. Done by “A Simple Twist of the Wrist.” “It was as good as a circus,” said Sergt. Mulholland. “I was walking along Broadway when I saw a black-and-tan cab coming furiously up Murray street. The driver seemed to be doing his, best to stop the animal, but it was unmanageable. A tall, well-built man, who did hot see the runaway, was crossing the street. Everybody cried out to him, but the horse was close upon him before he saw it. Quick as thought he put out his right hand, seized the horse by the nostrils, gave a sudden twist, and the runaway was lying flat on his side on the crossing. The cab-driver was too much astonished to say a word, and the stranger picked lip his hat and walked off as coolly as though nothing had happened. I learned that he was Mr. Lemuel R. Sturges, the owner of a cattle-ranch in Texas. He knew a trick the cowboys have of, throwing a steer by giving its head a little twist. He practiced it on Broadway, and that runaway horse got a lesson that he won’t forget if he has any sense. ”— New York Sun. A Silence Sent For. A golden-haired Silence put its head in at a door. “Did you send for me?" “Of course I didn’t,” replied a man in a long apron. “A messenger boy said somebody along here wanted to see me.” “Well, ’twan’t me; I’m a barber. May be it whs the merchant next door. < heard him say he was going to quit advertising. ” It is very funny, but as a general rule the waiter in a sweM restaurent is about the only person about the premises who doesn’t wait for anything. The man who orders the chop does most of the waiting. A manufacturer of white-wine vinegar claims that his compound is so much better than the old-fashioned concoction that he has adopted the sign: “Who will care for mother now?" The first woman settier of Cosmopolis, W. T., will get a premium of SIOO.