Rensselaer Republican, Volume 17, Number 32, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 16 April 1885 — Page 2

'm THUS KING'S BANQUETING HOUSE. I walk on my way with the others, I toll at my I am sometimes weary and careworn and ,J Sr sometimes I wear a mask, . And oovtf with smile* and sunshine a hoar; that Is full of tears. And yet, and yet, there Is Joy divine, and It orewns my burdened years; Vac sometimes there come a whisper in the ellenoe of my soul; "Rise up, my love, my fair one, and forget the sorrow and doe. And oome to the house of the banquet, and ftoast with the King to-day.” And oh I when 1 hear the summons, is thero aught except to obey? And what If the way be dreary end I sometimes think it kwir? There’s always, sooner or later, a bit of achcrAnd clouds above me are sometimes thick and gray t There is never a Cloud on the Mercy Seat, where I meet him day by day. Solfo on my way with the others, I am often weary and spent; But aye In my heart I am thankful, happy and well oontont: For oft in the early dawning and oft at the fait of day He call me In to the banquet, and what can I do but obey, —Margaret Bang*ter. 9

A SOCIABLE AT THE PARSONS. They oacrled p*e to the pastor’s house. And scattered the floor with crumbs. And marked the leaves of his oholcest books Wllh the prints of their greasy thumbs. Tbev piled his dishes high and thick With a lqtof unhealthy cake, While they gobbled the buttered toast and rolls Which the pastor’s wife did make. They hung around Clyte’s classic neck Their apple parings for sport. And everyone laugred when a clumsy lout □Bpilled his tea In the piano-forte. Next day the parson went down on his knees With bis wire, but not to pray; Oh, no; *twas to scrub the grease and dirt From the ca -pet and stairs away 1

MISS MADISON’S MATCH.

Madge Madison was good looking. She was neither too tall nor too short, too plump nor too Bkinay. She had a elear complexion, regular features and a pair of wonderfully attractive liquid grajr eyes. She had also an undeniable knack of so manipulating her sometimea.father shabby clothes that the beholddr ceased to remark their shabbiness in the distinction of the wearer. Not that she likes shabby clothes—she loathed them with a fervor few people credited her with, but she was substantially a self-contained person and endured the minor ills of life with graceful fortitude. The Madisons had never had any money to speak of, and just now things had come to a crisis with them. •What on earth’s to be done with J’ou girl®?” Col. Madison asked, helpessly. of his four motherless daughters that morning at breakfast. It was the Christmas holidays and the three younger ones had, of course, turned up with the Christmas bills, equally important and inopportune to their impecunious father. Three more mouths to be filled, three fine, tall, growing girls to be clad in something, and the school bills going on merrily all the time. No wonder the wretched colonel groaned over his quiverful. “We must said Lillian, the beauty. “We must work,” said Ethel, who took life seriously, and had “views.” “Thank goodness, I’m to young for anything heroic to be expected of me,” said Barbara, the baby,/pouting, “Has anything particular happened ?” asked Madge. “The bank has gone, and with it all I had except my pension,” said the unfortunate colonel, sighing deeply. “When I die you will all of you be paupers, so it will be better for you to set about doing something for yourselves before the bad day comes. For yQpr sake, children, I shall take every imaginable care of myself; but ala6l the best of us is but mortal.” The affecting thonght was too much for tbe unlucky parent. He lapsed into a melancholy taciturnity for the remainder of the meal. At its conclusion, Madge, who had been thinking matters over, said; “Father, you are right abont our doing* something for ourselves I can’t be a governess, I don’t know enough; but old Lady Dumbiedon wants a com-?any-keeper. I’ll ask her to take me. shall be earning £6O a year and at the same time relieving you of one incumbrance.” “You’re a good girl, Madge. lam sorry to sacrifice you, I am sure, but I don’t see any help for it” Miss Madison was a girl of action. Bhe speedily had all the preliminaries arranged with Lady Dumbiedon, whose service she was to enter toward the end of January. Bat before taking up her bow duties shb. permitted herself the relaxation of a vimir to a school friend, row well married and living in Kensington. She returned from this outing somewhat pensive, and, in reply to the affectionate badinage of her sisters, suffered it to be elicited that she had met a man at her friend’s bouse whom in more fortunate circumstances she could have cared a good deal for. Unhappily, as she owned that she suspected, the fav- , orab’.e impression had been mutnal, there could be no result from it. Her too brief visit had come to an end, and she and her delightful fellow gnest had separated; after their three day’s chance acquaintanceship, in all human probability never to meet again. Such is life and luck 1 She had, however, miscalculated the power of her own attractions. On tbe •ve of starting for Lady Dmnbledon’s she received a singular letter ;rom the man whose fortune it had been to so strongly recommend himself to her. “He had been irresistibly drawn to her,” he said, “in the few days they had been thrown together, but be had been* too poor a man to let the dictates of his heart find utterance. He had let her go in silence and had suffered much in so doing. Now things were changed with him. He had most unexpectedly oome into a property of SIO,OPO a year by the sudden death of,a relative, and he hastened to offer himself and his newly acquired fortune for her aoceptanoe. Circumstances connected with his aooession to fortune necessitated his immediate starting for Australia, and would keep him out of England for a year, Would she forgive his precipitate wooing out of charity for the violence of nis passion for Iter, and promise him to become his wife as soon as he returned home ?” This, denuded of many passionate 1

expressions of regard, was the substance of the letter. "What shall you do, child?” her father asked anxiously. “I will take your advice, but I am inclined to accept Mr. Smith-White’s offer,” she added, casting dawn her eyes and growing a little pale, sr, “Yod were always a most sensible girl, Madge, and to be trusted about yonr own affairs. Accept him by all means, if you feel you oan.” “Down on yonr knees, and thank heaven, fasting, for a richman’s love,” quoted Lillian, the beauty, on the matter being explained to her, in the absolute need of her usually self-reliant sister for a confidante. Thus encouraged by her family, Miss Madison accepted her fate. In return for her complaisance she received a raptnrous (registered) letter of thanks, enclosing magnificent diamond betrothal ring. Mr. Smith-White passionately deplored his hard luck in being obliged to embark without snatching cne brief interview with bis betrothed, but his ship was sailing that night, and he had no time to come down to Norwood.

Miss Madison-’s circumstances having undergone this startling change, the position of humble companion, even to a lady <jf title, appeared inappropriate to her. The Dowager Lady Dumbiedon, being appraised of recent events, graciously released her from her engagement, and furthermore, invited her to spend a few days ou a friendly visit Being a Kind old lady, with romatic proclivities, the dowager even gave the bride-elect many pretty little presents out of sheer benevolence toward a girl about to do so well for herself. It was Madge’s first realization of the great truth, that to those who have (or are going to have) much shall be given. The months Hew by. Each mail brought long, loving letters from the enamored Smith-White, who counted the days when his hateful business should be accomplished, and he should be at least able to return and claim his bride. He began to give very delicate and practical hints about the trousseau neoessary to be got together, which be wished should befit the position which his dearest Madge would occupy as his honored and cherished “wife, ” let no scruples, he begged, on the score of economy restrain her in her preparations. Tho paying of the bills could bo a matter of future consideration between himself and Colonel Madison. He particularly desired that his wife should come to him handsomely equipped for the found of countryhouse visits he meant to take her immediately after the first few weeks of her honey-noon were over. Miss Madison, upon this, weut to the best people and ere long had ordered a trousseau of modest and recherche magnificence. The letters of her lover became more ardent. He begged that the mafriage might take place at Easter, when ho calculated he would have just reached England. Let no.false delicacy, he implored his dearest prevent her acceding to his wishes on that point. Miss Madison had no false delicacy, and the point was conceded. Expectation in the bosom of tbe little circle at Norwood rose high, for Mr. SmithWhite was on his way Lome via India, whither his miserable affairs dragged Jjim. In a few weeks * letter came announcing that he had reached Paris, where he was just stopping en passant to buy a few pretty trifies for his bride. Then came a break of three days iu the correspondence, followed by a letter of an English friend of Mr. White’s who had met him at his hotel, telling of his sudden illness, brought on by overtravelling and over-excitement. After this came a short telegram announcing his death. Terrible, terrible downfall of high hopes. Was ever any girl to be so pitied? Madge Madison turned white to her very lips with the shock of the news. She walked blindly out of the room, up the shabby stairs, and locking herself alone in the bedroom sat down to face the awful collapse of her bright expectations. The next day brought some amelioration of the situation to Colonel Madison, though his poor daughter could hardly be expected as yet to take comfort in it. Ihe same friend wrote-to say that his unfortunate fellow-country-man’s last act had been to sign a hur-riedly-prepared will, leaving everything he possessed to his betrothed for life. He had expressed a wish that the whole Madison family should provide themselves with proper mourning and be present at his funeral, which was to take place at Kensal Green the follow* ing Thursday. The writer stated that he was making all necessary .Arrangements, and Bhonld start for London with the remains that night. The widowed bride-elect seemed stunned by the extent of her misfortune in losing thus cruelly the best and most generous of men. Her pitying sisters procured her mourning, and their own, from the same celebrated artists who had executed the wedding order. Tbe fabrics were of the riohest. Severe and elegant simplicity in woe is expensive, but what is that? Was this a time to haggle over the price of needful garments to do honor to the memory of a noble-hearted benefactor ? Thursday morning saw the whole family arrayed in their sables ready to set out on their journey. A coach from the nearest jobmaster’s, the driver being in decent bAck, so as to be jn harmony with the melancholy .occasion, palled, up at the door. The four black robed young figures, with CoL Madison, took their places iu it, Barbara sitting bodkin—her eves bright with excitement—for even a funeral was something to her, as she had but few distractions. They arrived punctual to the minute at the cemetery, and waited for the funeral cortage to appear. Time went on, but it did not oome. One hour, two hours passed in anxious expectation, and still the fnneral lagged strangely on the road. CoL Majdison interviewed the oficials. No notice of Mr. Smith-White’s interment had been given. Other groups of dark-robed figures came weeping, buried their dead, and went away, and still the oolonel and hia daughters lingered, unwilling to be accused hereafter es any lack of respect. A cold, oatting northeaster whirled *. niockingly among the headstones, seeming to deride ahd insult the mourners with its bitter cheerlesanees. At length it be-

came apparent tft every one; that' some inexcusable mistake had been made, and the uselessness of further waiting was obvious. Col. Madison/ slowly withdrew his little cohort from the field, anathematizing the wind, the officious friend of the deceased and every available subject for displeasure. He went that evening to Kensington, to see the lady at whose house his daughter had first met her betrothed, but only to find, to his dismay, that the house was to let, and no trace of Mis. Bigley was to be found. Nothing, therefore, was to be ascertained from that quarter. He was at u loss where else to apply for information, and so waited patiently with the hope that,the post would bring him some explanation. But no such explanation came. Puzzled and furious, the colonel telegraphed to the hotel in Paris for particulars of Mr. Smith-White’s death and the subsequent disposal of his remains. An answer came back that no such person, nor anyone answering the descriptjbn, had visited the hotel, and the proprietor denied that any one h ,d died suddenly under his roof. It then began to dawn upon the unfortunate family that they had been made the victims of an infamous and cruel hoax. The dowager Lady Dumbiedon, filled with pitv for the poor girl thus heartlessly made a fool of, carried her off to Brigh ton, charitably trustin g the change of scene might assuage the acuteness of those agonies of shame and mortification that the deceived and deserted young creature must be experiencing. The little circle wherein the' Madisons moved and had their being was shaken to its foundation with indignation at the heartless cruelty of which poor Madge had been made the victim. The tale of her woe leaked out in Brighton and awoke a perfect furor of sympathy. Her behavior was pronounced as perfect, she was so quiet, so dignified, so patient, under her unmerited suffer ings. s, Lady Dumbiedon became quite proud pf her young friend, who was undopbt*edly the success of tbe moment, and received the greatest possible attention. After a few weeks it was semi-offieially given out that Sir Beginald Dacre, a yoiing man of family and fortune and irrepressible character, had successfully sought Miss Madison’s hand, though no formal engagement was to be entered into for the present, so that the poor girl might have time to recover her shattered feelings. Meanwhile, Col. Madison was receiving a great deal of sympathy, too. He became a feature at his club, aud enjoyed a notoriety he well could have dispensed with as the father of the young lady who had met with so extraordinary and unpleasant an adventure. Every one offered him advice in the matter. “Hang it, Colonel, the blackguard ought to be discovered and made to pay for it,” cried one of his old friends, energetically. “Set a detective on his track, man.” The Colonel considered his friend’s advice, and after considerable hesitation, concluded to act on it. He therefore went to Scotland Yard, and, on the suggestion of an experienced officer, ho decided to take the gorgeous betrothal ring to the jeweler’s whose name was in the case, in order, if possible, to ascertain something about the purchaser. Here a shock awaited him. The ring had been ordered by a lady, with instructions that it should lie placed to Madison’s account. ; “Goodheavens, Koder!” he stuttered, “you dared to put a ring like that to my account without any authority of mine! Could not you see that it was a vile, infamous, disgraceful hoax?” Mr. Koder stood high in his calling. He was sorry for the colonel, and so at once took back the ring, expressing his regret that lie should have fallen into the error complained of; but as soon as Col. Madison had leit his shop he went down to the Scotland Yard, and then made a' certain communication which he had refrained from volunteering to his agitated customer. A few days after this Sir Reginald Dacre’s younger brother ran down from London and walked into his rooms. “Look here, Regy. You say von are going to marry Miss Madison,” he said slowly, “Well, take my advice, and—don’t^ Sir Reginal’s cheerful face paled. “What do you mean?” he asked, in a passion. “I mean that she is too clever for poor, stupid fellows like you and me. That hoax was all a plan got up by herself, from beginning to end. The man never existed. He was a myth. She took in her own people, she took in old Dumbiedon, and she all but took in Scotland Yard, into whose hands poor Madison at last put the affair. The only person, fortunately for you, that she did not take in was old Koder.”

The Happy Men in Hospitality.

The Canadian, as any one will admit who has been his guest, possesses in an eminent and most enjoyable degree the virtue of hospitality. In him are happily blended the best characteristics of the Englishman and the American. The Englishman, hearty as the welcome which he extends to a gnest, still compasses his hojise and his heart round abont with barriers of reserve and suspicion, which it is not always) easy to surmount, or to throw down. The American on the other hand, for all his prompt courtesies and willingness to oblige and to entertain, is often apt to carry what we - might call the hotel and business atmosphere into his acquaintanceships. He entertains royally, bnt it often seems as if he grudged the time and the personal attention which are requisite in order that the gnest may enjoy himself to the utmost. The Canadian, as we have already said, blends in a happy measure the best .traits of his British progenitor and his American neighbor. Philadelphia Record. There was always more iu the world than men could see, walked they ever so slowly; they will see it no better for going fast. We shall be obliged at last to oonfess that tbe really precious things are thought and sight, not pace. It does a man no harm to go sometimes slow, for his glory is not at all in going, but in being.— Buskin.

STORIES ABOUT GRANT.

Anecdotes and Reminiscences of the Great Commander. WHEN GRANT YELLED LIKE AN Ilf- ' DIAN. •• Mm. Grant and the Boys—The Kind of Music the General Liked. An army officer, .now stationed in Boston, who was Inspector at tho headquarters of “ the armies operating; against Richmond,” says: ‘‘The only time I ever saw Gen. Grant show any exhilaration was when news was received of Sheridan's victory in Winchester Valley, a t Cedar Crook. He came out of his tent, threw bis hat up in tbe air, yelled like an Indian, and tben went hack into his tent. He knew that that was the beginning of the end. “Some people attribute hisjsueccss to luck, but all he ever earned was by hard work and carefully elaborated plans. He would frequently sit- all night by the telegraph Instrument at his City Point headquarters receiving and sending dispatches, and keeping two operators constantly employed. I have looked out of my tent, many a time, and seen him studying maps ot the fields of operations in the East and West with Gen. John S. Barnard, his chief engineer. Ho talked but little, but what he said was generally to the point. He always seemed to read the newspapers carefully, and never appeared to have any idle time. At the time articles appeared in the Northern papers charging him with drunkenness there was no liquor at his headquarters, to my certain knowledge; and if a man wanted a drink he bad to put down his tent-flops and take it secretly, knowing the General’s opposition to It. He always Eeemed preoccupied, and frequently seated himself in the sun on a dry goods box In front of my teht. While meditating he would keep his foot going liko a pendqlum, and thump the; box at every swing. I was writing out my reports one day, and being annoyed by tbe continued thumping, was about to yell ‘clear out of there, supposing the culprit was an orderly. Fortunately, 1 concluded to look out first, and much to my astonishment discovered that It was Gen. Grant. * r “I remember an incident that caused considerable comment at the expense of the sutlers about that time. There was quite a fleet of boats, laden with sutlers' supplies—they were principal'y schooners—lying right at the foot of the bluff, under Grant’s headquarters, waiting for a favorable time to take the stores to the front and there sell them. Operations were going on at the time which prevented wagons from being on the road. The sutlers improved their idle time by picking over their eggs and throwing the bad Cries into the river. The current threw many of them up on tho shore, breaking them against the rocks at the foot of the bluff, and assailing the Commander-In-Chief’s position with a stench quite equal to the ‘6tlnk-pots’ used iiWZhineso military operations. Gen. Grant took in the situation, and issued an order requiring the sutlers to go in boats and pick up all tho eggs floating on the water. This, as perhaps you can imagine, was anything but an agreeable task, the egps frequently breaking and atmost overwhelming the sutlers with their powerful odor. “Mrs. Grant visited the General in October,, 1864, I think,’ bringing two of the children with her. There was a flock of qual 1 living in the underbrush on the Appomattox side of the bluff, and every morning they marched up on the lawn in front of the tents. On tho occasion of Mrs. Grant's visit, some person in passing startled the birds, and they flew wildly in among Gen. Grant's tents. The Grant children tore after them, and the General, seizing his slouch hat, joined in the chase, rushing from tent to tent, upsetting tables and stools, and finally capturing one of the birds under his hat. “He had no ear lor music, and could not distinguish between ‘Hail Columbia’ and ‘Hail to the Chief.’ Occasionally a fine band would come down the Appomattox to serenade him at his headquarters, much to the delight of bis music-loving staff, but tho General, always busy, regarded tho music only as an interruption, and usually sent the band away alter it bad played one piece. The only satisl action left to the officers was the pleasure of listening to the music grow fainter and fainter as the little steamer carrying the band raovei slowly up the river, soon disappearing in the darkness. But there was one kind of music which, though primitive, seemed to afford the General great delight. There was an American am-bulance-drlvfer at headquarters named Sam, who played the banjo with great dexterity, and I had in my employ a colored toy whom everybody at headquarters dubbed ‘Cupid,’ who was remarkable for his ugly features and expert jig-dancing. When the General had any foreigner of distinction visiting him he would send his compliments to me and ask to borrow Cupid. Then he would get Sam to play the banjo and have Cupid dance Jig after jig in front of the camp-tire on the tail-board or an army wagon for the amusement of himself and guests. The General, convulsed with laughter at Cupid’s antics, would sit there by the hour, with a cigar in his mouth, apparently enjoying himself hugely. He was rarely seen without a cigar in his mouth.” —Boston Globe.

ON GRANT’S STAFF. The Two Civilians Who Enjoyed the Commander’s Confidence—An Order Against Smoking. “I was in Company A, Twenty-first Massachusetts Volunteers, Sergeant Plunkett’s regiment,” said Col. B. D. Wiley, of this city, formerly on Grant’s staff. “We left Worcester in Juno, ’6l, and I was mustered into the United States service the following July. I served with McClellan on the Peninsula, and under Burnside, Hooker, and others at different Army of the Potomac stations. When Grant was ordered from the West to take command of ‘the armies operating against Richmond,' tho Army of the Potomac, under Meade, was lying In the vicinity of Culpeper, Va. “I first met Grant at Alexandria, Va. I went there, from Culpeper, in company with Gen. Ingalls and others of Grant’s staff, and we accompanied him back to Culpeper on a special train. Gen. Ingalls, late Quartermaster General, now retired, was one of bis classmates. Grant was then, seemingly, a very quiet, uncommunicative nan, and in general appearance hardly such a man as 1 had Imagined the hero of Vicksburg. He was in fatigue dress when I first saw him, and wore no insigna of rank. He was accompanied by Gen. Rawlins, his Chiet-of-Staff, afterward Secretary ot' War, and Col. T. S. Bowers, Adjutant General. These two officers were members of the Twentyfirst Illinois, the regiment Grant was made Colonel of when he entered the volunteer service. At the time of the breaking out of the war Gen. Rawlins was a lawyer, and was made Adjutant and First Lieutenant of the Twenty-first Illinois at the same time Grant was made Colonel of it. Though he had never had any military training, Grant, recognizing his wonderful executive ability, kept him os his chief adviser during the war, and, as you know, made him a Cabinet officer when he became President. Prior to the breaking out of the war Col. T. 8. Bowers was a clerk in a country store and entered the Twenty-first Illinois as a private. Ho was afterward promoted to Sergeant-Major and assigned to duty at the headquarters of the regiment, where he attracted Grant’s attention, and was made Adjutant General at tbe same time Grant was made Colonel. He served in that capacity during the entire war, and was accidentally killed at West Point while attending the commencement exercises at the Mill-; tary Academy with Gen. Grant. He was very small in stature, but es a genial, pleasant disposition. While serving with Grant in front of Vicksburg volunteers were called for to carry dispatches by tbe rebel batteries by river, and without Grant’s knowledge Bowers, -aooompanied by only one man, successfully made,the trip. It was an extremely hazardous undertaking, for tbe slightest splash of an oar washable to result in capture or death. “Grant was"extremely fond of him—more so. I should say, than of any other member of bis staff. He often told of Bowers’ bravery with-much pride. He and Gen. Rawlins became part of his personal staff, and were retained in hie military family daring the en-

tire war. It seemed strange that Grant, a graduate of a military academy, with hosts of military friends, should select two civilians,! for hi* constant compan'ons and advisers. other members of his military family, at the time he arrived from the West, were his'brother-in-law, Gen. F. T. Dent, Col. Parker, a full-blooded Genesee Indian, his Corresponding Secretary (afterward In charge of the Indian Bureau), and Maj: Dunn, aid-de-camp, now with Geh. Pope in tbe Department of tbe Pacific. “Yes, I have seen Grant under Are •at Spottsylvania Court House, in Virginia, one or our most disastrous defeats in the Wilderness. Gen. Gfant and Gen. Meade were in consultation under a tree, near a deserted house, surrounded by their staff officers,whcn a solid shot from one of the enemy’s batteries passed through the tree, cutting off severer, branehos. and causing no little consternation auppng tho staff and escort. The two General*'sat there, however, without indication of alafm, and continued their'consultation as if uothlng had occurred. “I saw him most frequently at City Point, Va., whenuhe was directing operations around Petersburg; indeed, being a member of his staff, I was near him much of the time. I was in charge of all the supplies for both armies, and had a colored guard on the wharf and apound the storehouses for the protection of the stores. On Aug. 9, ’B4, the ordnance department, located in the immodiate .vicinity of the supply department, exploded, destroying the storehouses and a large amount of ,Government property. • Among other precautions taken in consequence, the colored guard received orders to allow no smoking around tbe storehouses. Gen. Grant appeared on the wharf one day, unaccompanied by any of his staff, and puffing vigorously at a fragrant Havana which he had just lighted. He was soon stopped by one of the colored guard, who, not knowing the General, said: “Here, boss, you'se- got to frow away dat cigar.’ The General good-naturedly pitched the cigar into tho James, and smilingly passed the sentinel without saying a word. That shows the character of the man; lie was walking around quietly and taking a look at things." —Boston Globe.

A REMINISCENCE. How a Fault-Finding Woman Was Rebuked for Her Abuse of Grant. When Gen. Grant was in command at Fort Donelson, in 1863, a number of Northern women went down there to assist as nurses In the hospitals. Among them was the wife of a certain Western Senator who distinguished himself lor his hostility to the great commander when the latter was under a cloud. ThqSvoman in question was unwilling to put up with things as she found them for the good of the old flag, but insisted upon having matters revolutionized according to her ewn ideas of propriety. The hospital locations wanted changing; the physicians in attendance were lncompeient; she would like to have a carriage at her command; rtie called for an orderly to do this and an orderly to do that; the officers were remiss in their attention to her—in short, nothing went right with her, but everything was wrong, and “abominably so” at that. Grant kne,w this woman, well, having been frequently pestered by her complaints and demands, and on one occasion, when patieneewith him had ceased to be a virtue, ho told her plainly that he “was not sent to Donelson to obey the behests of petticoats, but to command the army.” She flirted from his presence in a rage, and ere long went back to her home. To reach the latter place she took passage aboard of a Mississippi steamboat, commanded by a Galena man, an old river captain and a personal friend and great admirer of Gen. Grant. The first night out thSkklpper was making himself agreeable to his passengers in the cabin, especially the women, when he chanced to remark to one of the latter, in the presence of the hereinbeforementioned female, that he was a resident of Galena, and had lived thero many years. “You say you live at Galena?” interposed the Senator's wile. “That is where that dirty, drunken Grant came from, isn’t it?” she continued. Turning to the intermeddler tho Captain glared at her a moment, and at last, in a voice trembling with passion, he said-: “Madam, I don't know who you are, but this I do know: that if -you were a man instead of an apology for a woman I’d “knock every tooth down your throat if you didn’t take back the lie you just uttered against Geri. Grant; and, by tho’Lord Harry, 1 have half a notion to bank you, night though it is, for the slander.” There was great excitement inthe cabin for the moment, the passengers heartily siding with the captain, and manifesting their approbation of the severe reprimand administered by him to the Senator's wife. As for the latter, with red mantling her cheeks, she slunk away to the rear of the cabin without deigning to reply, and from that time until she reached the end of heJ* trip she was not at all troubled with company. Chicago Tribune. " i When Grant Was Mad. I never heard the General swear, says a writer in the Washington Capital , but I certainly saw him mad enough to make things blue if he had broken out. In the spring of 1874 a delegation came here from a taxpayers’ convention in South Carolina to expostulate against the intolerable extravagance, folly, and fraud in their State Government. Frank Moses, “the young* native Governor,” as he had been dubbed by those who thought carpet-baggers the sum of ail evil, jwbo.had shown them that the finger of Moses was heavier than the loins of Scott, was nearing tho close of his term. To prepare lor a desperate effort to redeem the State, a non-partisan tax-payers’ convention was called, and the result was “an appeal to Caesar.” A delegation of twenty of the'most distinguished men of the State came here; Gen. James Chestnut, who died recently, was at Its head. I went with tnem, by appointment, to tbe White House to present the bill of grievances. As we were passing up the stairway to the President’s receptionroom, Senator John J. Patterson, the carpet-bag representative of the Falmetto State, passed down. He had a grin on his somewhat sardonic face which was indicative of disaster to those he grinned at. Gen. M. C. Butler, now Senator, certainly construed it as a danger signal, for he said to me: “Now, 1 wonder what Patterson has been up to?” Tbe delegation was not long in finding out. When they filed into the re-oeption-room Grant was standing to receive them, one clinched hand resting on the table, an angry flush upon his face, and an expression of the eye fitter for the battlefield than for the reception-room. He went through the ceremony of introduction coigly, and then said: VWhat can Ido for yoli?” W. D. Porter, charleston s most famous lawyer, presented the resolutions of the convention and the protest of the taxpayers of South Carolina against the continued existence of the State government. Mr. Leathers unrolled three long proof-sheets of an individual protest, which he would have proceeded to read had tfot Grant, with air impatient gesture, interrupted him. “Gentlemen,” laid he, “that all you have to say concerning the present government of South Carolina is true Ido not admit or deny. The administration of affairs in that State is in the hands of those who were elected by a large majority of the people to represent them; you must find your remqdy at the ballot-box; but even if I bad it in my power to prevent the evils of which you complain, I do not think I am' bound to do so. Wby should I help those who shamefully abuse me? The convention which sent you here even dragged the name of my wife into its debates, and made her the subject of false and scandalous accusation?.” The delegation was dumfonnded. The members had not expected any very warm sympathy, but this turning of the tables was too Budden to find them prepared. Those who had noticed the exit of “ Hones Patterson” were, however, not so much surprised at Grant's famil arlty with the proceedings of the .convention. That sly politician had primed Grant for the reception, and on the table close to Grant’s hand was a newspaper clipping—the report of Gen. Mart Gary's speech in the convention. Gen. Gary, as Chairman of the Committee on Federal Relations, had opposed an appeal to Grant. Ho denounced hkn as a drunken tyrant, no tetter than his fellow-radicals in Fouth Carolina. “While Moses and his fel-low-thieves,” said be, "are robbing the people of South Carolina, Grant and hie fellow-

thieves are robbing the whole people Of the United States. While negro harkits are peddling legislative pay,certificates in the streets of Columbia, the wife of Gen. Grant is selling the secrets of the Treasury to the gamblers of Wall street. ” So the tax-payers' delegation went away sorrowful. Grant’s Freedom from Profanity. In a conversation with a Washington correspondent,; Mr. Markland, who was tho head of the mail service of Grant’s army, said:, “Gon. Grant never swore, and in my long connection with him I have never heard hijh utter a profane word. I have been with him on many occasions in which perhaps the use ot profanity would have been pardonable. I have heard him tell stories in which oaths baye always been used, but in;i«telling them be would rot quote the' oaths. He was freer from using unkind expressions toward his fellow-man than any ono I have ever known. And the chief misfortunes of his life have arisen from his mieplaiced confidence in bis fellow-man. Speaking of his profanity, 1 remember two occasions on which Grant should have sworn and I think would have sworn if he could. One was While we were at Young's Point, with headquarters on the steamboat Magnolia. Two of the staff officers had been sent north under orders, leaving their rooms on tho boat vacant. Gen. Grant invited two officers on board one night for consultation. During the consultation a violent raki-storm came up, and Gen. Grant asked these officers to remain on board over night, saying that he had two rooms, and that it would be more pleasant for them to stay there than to go to their camp in the storm. The time for retiring arrived, and the officers were shown to their rooms. When the doors were opened, however, it was found that the beds were occupied by the colored servants of the officers who were absent. Gen. Grant was very angry, but his indignation did not find vent in oaths; he merely ordered these tervants out on shore interthe rain, and in a short time, his indignation having cooled, ho sent an orderly to teil them they could come back upon tho beat. “At another time, after having performed his morning ablutions, he left his lalso teeth in the wash-basin. His servant, in putting the room to rights, emptied the contents into the river, and for the time being Gon. Grant was toothless. But his amiability developed itself even here. He said to she servant: ‘You have put me in a very embarrassing position, but you did not intend tq do,it,’ and that was all.”

Grant and the Reporter. While Garfield lay dead at Elberon and Mrs. Garfield was beginning to realize the sorrow that had come upon her, there went down from Jersey City, with a distinguished party, Chester A. Arthur, become the President; Police Commissioner French, Col. George Blies, and Gen. Grant and his son Fred. When the special train rolled back to Jersey City, the gentlemen en the inside waited patiently until they might get into their carriages to cross the ferry and rattle away up town. One personage in fine attire also waited with tho party, standing for the time on a rear platform. This watcher's manner was haughty, and tho lofty poise of his head seemed to imply that he felt very much at ease with this world. A New York newspaper reporter, assigned to meet the train, approached this gentleman with a casual inquiry and was most pronouncedly snubbed. “We don’t propose to fee bothered by a lot of buzzard reporters,” quoth tho gentleman, with an extraordinary emphasis on the “we.” Alter disposing of this nice little sentiment the gentleman's haughtiness Increased visibly. He wasn’t quite satisfied with the gentlemanly exhibition he had already made of himself, but broke out again with, “ We don’t want you around here, anyway. Skip!” Just at this moment tho car door was thrown open, a compact figure stepped out on the platform on bis way to tbe ferryboat. He beard the agreeable remarks of the austere gentleman, and he turned around half in surprise, half in shame, and tben, as be recognized the reporter, he gcniaHy extended his hand toward him and called ou*, “Come along with me, my boy, and I’U tell you all about it.” This friend in need was Ulyssos 3. Grant: the distinguished gentleman bn the rear platform was a private secretary on trlaL —New York Times. Company Grant, As is nearly always the case in eduoatlonal institutions, the new pupils at the West Point Academy were made the subjects of the sports and jest of those who had passed through tbe same ordeal and had been ad vanced to higher classes. Ulysses, es course, was subjected to his share of the torment, but after forbearance had ceased to be a virtue, he determined to take sueh a deoislvo stand that he would no longer be a victim of their practical jokes. His conrptray on one occasion being out on mock parade, a repetition of one of these jokes was attempted, when, stepping out from the ranks the provoked youth requested the captain to forget his rank for a few moments, and stand up fair and square to,see whioh was the better man of the twe. The captain accepted the offer, and in a few moments discovered that in a pugilistic encounter he was no match for Ulysses. The victor then turned to the lieutenant, and asked him to revenge the captain, but, after a short eontost, he, too, was compelled to suocumb to hte opponent’s skill and strength. “Who's next?” said young Grant. “I wish peace, and, if necessary, will tight the entire company, one by one, to gain it. I have no ill-feeling against any one, but I will have peace in the future.” No one was willing to be punished, and one and all rushed forward and took him by the hand. From that time he was known as “Company Grant.” - ———- Thonght He Wonld Do It. It is said that during the dreary days of the siege of Vicksburg, a knot of men collected in a druggist’s shop in Cincinnati were discussing the probabilities of Ms success in taking Vicksburg. An aged countryman, who had been a silent listener, was at last appealed to for his opinion. “I rather think he'll do it,” said the stranger, in a tone of certainty. “What makes you think so?” said the company, “Well, I don't know; but our Ulysses always did do whatever he said he would. You see, Ulysses is my boy,” added the old man; and tbe event justified bis confidence. Never was an enterprise hedged in with difficulties more gigantic; but against these Grant placed the silent, inflexible fierce of V will whioh no length of time oeufei weary, no obstacles discourage, and the combinations of a brain which seemed equally capable of attending to the vastest plans and most trivial minutae. It is recalled In Washington society that the steamer Baltic, on which Mrs. Nellie Grant-Sartoris lately returned from Europe to see her slowly dying father, is the same on whioh she went with her husband on their wedding t,our across the Atlantic a few days after their bailliant wedding in the White House, May 23, ‘IBT4. She Inb always been her father’s special pet among his children, and while her mother maintained her composure in telling her good-by when she was leaving after ber marriage, her father broke down completely. Ggtt. Wright, with his-staff, was one day passing Gen. Grant's headquarters, and stopped to pay his respects. During the conversation Gen. Wright asked bow long before they would enter Richmond. Gen. Grant replied:—“l did intend to get in hy the ftrnrth of July, but I have just got a letter from a friend in California who has been betting on an earlier date, and we shall have to hurry up a little.” Richmond did not toss for nearly a year. The Medical Record says: Five per cent, of all cancers are situated upon the tongue. The average duration of life in cancer of the tongue is, without operation, ton end onehalf months; with operation, sixteen months. In some cases, after operations, the patients have lived for from two to five years, or even ten years. Heaven never gets much nearer to a mao than the adjoining eeaajf, while the other place is often in fife same township. ; ,