Rensselaer Republican, Volume 19, Number 30, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 31 March 1887 — The Dog Was Honest. [ARTICLE]

The Dog Was Honest.

Gen. Jackson had two Secretaries •of State, two Secretaries of the Treasury, two Secretaries of War, two. Secretaries of the Navy, and two Attorneys General in his first term. In his second term he had three Secretaries of •State, three Secretaries of the Treasury, two of the Navy, two Postmasters Geeoral, and two Attorneys General. The Maharajah Dhaleep Sfngh has •established a headquarters in Chandernagore, near Calcutta, which is a French possession, and is issuing thence incendiary proclamations to the Sikhs, ■declaring that he has repudiated the treaty of annexation of the Punjab, and is now an enemy of Great Britain and a •claimant of the throne of his ancestors. A fellow who lias a mania for throwing ink worked Baltimore for awhile, and then went to Philadelphia, where Jie now is. He mingles in crowds and has a spray by which the ink is spattered over his victim’s attire. He has ruined as many as twenty dresses and •cloaks in one evening. He can have mo other motive but pure deviltry, and if caught it wouldn’t be a bad plan to make an ink bottle of him. A Nevada newspaper says that a citizen recently saw two Piute bucks dig •a hole in the snow bank, get into it, and wrap themselves in a single blanket, preparatory to a night's rest. In the morning ho saw no signs of the Indians, but a mound of snow marked the spot where they went to bed. He was sure that they had frozen during the cold night, and prepared to dig out the bodies; but the first thrust of the shovel brought the bucks to their feet with grunts of disgust. Instead of being frozen, they were moist with perspiration. A Chicago ni3n went out to Rockford the other day to attend the funeral of a relative, says the Chicago Tribune. As the coffin was being consigned to the earth he noticed that the interior of the grave was lined with ferns. This being something entirely new to him, •he afterward asked why the ferns w ere placed there, and was told that they concealed a metallic case into which the coffin w'as lowered. "When the mourners left the cemetery blacksmiths came and riveted an iron lid onto the ease, thereby making it imjwssible for body-snatchers to gain access to the coffin. Such devices for preserving the sanctity of the dead have been found necessary on account of the numerous grave robberies that have been committed at Rockford within the last few years. A curious thing happened in England a week or twe ago. . A Mr. Bulpett, once a Rugby boy and later a graduate of Oxford, was famous in his time as a walker and runner. A discussion arose lately as to wdien men w ; ere at their best, and .Bulpett thought he could then make a record, though 35 years old. Heavy bets were made that he could not walk a mile, ride a mile, and run a mile in seventeen minutes. He went into training and at once went lame, having strained the muscles of one leg. Still, he persisted, and the trial came off before a great throng at Newmarket. He walked the mile in eight minutes and twenty-five seconds, ran it in six minutes and six seconds, and then jumped on ahorse and rode it in two minutes, thus winning the bet by two and one-eiglit seconds. The fact should be known in this country, where men begin to think themselves passing their prime between 35 and 45. According to a writer in the Century Magazine, the nations of Europe' now have tw r o and a quarter millions Of men under arms, and twice that many in reserve, ready to cut each other’s throats according to the modern improvements of warfare. This is not an encouraging characteristic of this Age Of Progress. It is progressing backward toward barbarism. It proves that there is something radically defective in systems of government which have to be upheld by six or seven millions of bayonets. The savage tribes of interior Africa can make as good a showing as this. But the nation that has progressed furthest backward is the English. Her army has to be increased, not to fight a foreign foe, but to evict poor Irish tenants from their humble cabins. Her generals gain glory by conducting a campaign against the hut of some bed-ridden widow. Her gallant colonels win the Victoria Cross bv their bravery in throwing a sick baby out into tho road. The Russians, the Germans, and the French have at least the excuse for their armaments that they fear attack or long to carry ambitious projects; but the British government, under Lords Salisbury and Hartington, battles with starving peasants and bullies Irish babies. And yet England is sometimes satirically called a civilized nation. In a broker’s office on Broad Street several years ago, writes a New Yorlt correspondent, I was introduced to a middle-aged woman, well but not showily dressed, dignified in manner, and both pleasing and intelligent in looks. She was the mother of the ener-

i getio Irish leader, Parnell, then just looming into notice. Mrs. Parnell was then, and tyad been for some time, a steady operator in the took market. She had considerable means, partly inherited from her father. “Old Ironsides," and the excitement of specula-, tion had a special charm for hir. She was there almost daily, looking over the quotations and giving orders to buy or sell with the nonchalance of a veteran. Some of her family tried to draw lior away from the risk of speculation, but it is a characteristic of tlie Parnells to have their oWn way, and the old lady had hers. Her ventures occasionally turned out well, but more frequently the turn of the wheel was against her, and the result that might have been expected finally came. All the money she took into Wall Street was lost, and at last she found herself actually i»oor. It was a painful change, as in the better times she had enjoyed "luxurious comforts either in the best New York hotels or in her handsome home, once the residence of her father, at Bordentown, N. J. For some time before she left New York for Ireland, last summer, she received regular remittances from her son, and these were her sole means of support. Few women have more reason to regret a personal knowledge of the ways of Wall Street than Mrs. Parnell. She had abundant means when she went there and nothing when she left. This is a sail experience for any person advanced in years, and especially bad when the person is a woman. But its lesson is never heeded except by those -who learn it at their own cost.

Washington letter to Boston Traveler : One of the handsomest women who haunt the Capitol is a tali and magnificentlv-formed widow, who is the agent of a prominent book concern. She has lustrous bTOwn hair and splendid eyes, and many and many a member of Congress has wilted under their expressive glances. She solicits subscriptions and, it is understood, is the most successful of all the vast aripy of book-agents who prey upon the community. If there is one thing above another that will interest gallant Senator Blackburn it is a handsome woman. The widow by some means ascertained that the courtly Kentuckian was somewhat susceptible, and so went up to the Senate chamber and sent in her card. Several of the Senator’s associates learned that “Genial Joe’’ was about to receive a call, and they made up their minds to play a practical joke at his expense. They enlisted the service of a messenger, and substituted for the widow’s card, one hearing the name “Mrs. Wratz. ” Blackburn came out into the ante-room, and when he caught sight of the beautiful widow his face was wreathed in smiles and his breast swelled out like a pouter pigeon. Advancing in a most fascinating manner he extended his hand and said with great cordiality: “I am glad to meet you, Mrs. Wratz.” The widow’s eyes snapped as she replied sharply: “Senator Blackburn, I am astounded. I came here to see you on a matter of business. You are the first member of Congress who has ever said ‘rats’ to me. ” The Senator looked confused for a moment, and then drew out the card which the practical jokers had prepared and said: “I’m sure there must he some mistake, the name reads W-r-a-t-z.” The widow looked at the card, and then they IrotK 1 aughed. A few moments later the widow put down the Senator’s name for two copies of her book. Then they shook hands and the widow went to look for a fresh victim. Later in the day the practical jokers told Blackburn all about their little scheme. He looked at them sadly and led them clown to the restaurant,where he gave an order to a colored waiter, who appeared in a few moments with a bottle which lie opened with great care. The jokers and the Senator sipped the foaming contents, and promised to keep the affair a profound secret. *

C. J. Persliall is President of the New Jersey Kennel Club and owns some of the best pointer dogs in New Jersey. Mr. Persliall finds relaxation in studying the characteristics of the canine family. “Have you heard the story about my Jimmie?” he asked. “No? Well, I was sitting in the Hoffman House case one evening, dreaming away the time while waiting for a friend. Jimmie "was curled at my feet, when presently he got up, stepped carefully across the rug as if he was on game, and came to a full stop at the opposite corner. There he stood, a model for an artist. After being called several times he returned to his old position, but did not seem satisfied. He repeated the maneuver, only to be called baok again, and after he had done so twelve times I began to get interested. Going to the corner of the rug I- turned it up, and there found a dollar. He kept pointing the dollar till I counted eighty-four. Just then some friends came in and I told them Jimmie would point a silver dollar. They lauglied at the idea, but I told him to ‘hie on.’ He jumped up, snifi’ed about; but it was no good, he would not repeat the trick. I had to tell the story of what he had done, and going to the corner to pick up the dollar in confirmation of my story, foUnd it was a trade-dollar, which, as you know, is only worth 84 cents. I-tell yon, Jimmie knows a trick or two.”—Philadelphia Press. ~ It is easy to live in the world’s opinion ; it is easy in solitude to live after your own; but the great man is he who, dn the midst of the crowd, keeps withperfect sweetness the independence of solitude.