Rensselaer Republican, Volume 20, Number 37, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 17 May 1888 — Page 2

thrkk graves. How did ho Uro, RSo dMd man here. WIA the temple above hit revet Ha Sved aa a groat one from cradle to bier He waa nuraed in luxury, trained in pride, When the with waa born. It waa graced; With thanks be took, without hood b<F~ga ve. The common man waa to him a clod From whom be waa far aa a demigod. 'Hm duties? To aee that his rente were paid. His pleasure to know that the crowd obeyed. Bia pulse, if you felt it. throbbed apart. With a separate stroke from the people's heart. Bat whom did he love, and Whom did he bless? Waa the life of him more than a man's or lace? _ I know not. He died. There was none to blame, And as few to weep; but these marbles came For the temple that rote to preserve his name How did he live, that other dead man. From the graves apart and alone? As a greet one too? Yea, this was one Who lived to labor and study and plan. The earth's deep thought he loved to reveal t Ho banded the breast or Che land with steel; The thread ol hie toil he never broke; He filled the o<Um with wheels and smoke. And workers by day and workers by night, For the day waa too short for his vigor's flight. Too firm was be to bo feeling and giving; For labor, for gain, waa a Ute worth Uvtng. Ho wonhipped Industry, dreamt of her, sighed tor her. Potent ho grew by her, famous he died for her. They say he improved the wortd in bls time. That Lis mills and mines were a work sublime, When be died—the laborers rested, and sigbed; Which waa it—because he had Uved, or died? And how did he lire, that dead man there, in the country thnrohyard laid? O, he? He came tor the sweet field air; He was tired of the town, and took no pride In its fashion or fame. He returned and died !> the place he loved, where a child he played With those who have knelt by his grave and prayed. He ruled no serfs and he took no pride. He was one with the workers side by side: He hated a mill, and a mine and a town. With their fever of misery, struggle, renown; He could never believe but a man was made For a nobler end than the glory of trade. Bor the youth he mourned with an endless pity Who were cast like snow on the streets of the . city. He was weak, maybe, but be lost no friend; Who loved him once, loved on to the end. He mourned all selfish and shrewd endeavor: But he never injured a weak one—never. . When censure was passed, be was kindly dumb, He was never so wise but a fault would come; Ho was never so old that he failed to enjoy The games and the creams he had loved when a boy. . . . He erred, and waa sorry, but he never drew A trusting heart from the pure and true. Wheat friends look back from the years to be, •od grant they may say such things of me. —John Boyle O’Reilly.

ACOQUETTE' SONQUEST

How well I remember the day Philip Darcy came back from Europe, where he had been studying, and hong out his modest little lawyer’s shingle. He had very little money n the world,but it was not very long before rich clients began to flock in and he made a handsome in come. Before he went away he had been very fond of little Mary Gordon, and we all thought he wonld marry her when he returned. Perhaps he might have if he had not fallen under the spell of the most adroit coquette in town, Isabel Harwood,who soon won him away from the old object of his adoration. For once this haughty beauty, who her own afrfl tell desperately in leve with the man she.had only tried to flirt with at first. < - At last Philip. Darcy made up bismind that he would call on Isabel and ask her to be his wife. He had fettled in his mind that he loved Mary Gordon oqjy as a sister. He found his divinity on the night in Jlaeeijori playing with a png dog in the upswing room—a horrid little eur he always disliked. She gave him one look and was frightened. With all her wit and artifice she sought to put off the fateful moment, but she could not With the wild impetuosity of his nature whe, deeply in earnest and exeited, confident too, that the blessed consummation was at hand, he caught her in his ardent embrace, gave her one impassioned kiss, and then asked her to be his wife—to bless him beyond all blessing that man had ever known. He was going on with a picture of his love, when she broke from him and turned and faced him. Sever mind the words she spoke She rejected him—she scorned him— she wondered at his daring and at his selfoonceit. But he did not stop to hear her through. The iron had entered his soul; and in those first few momenta he had seen what manner of woman he had loved. He rushed out into the night—it w£s night everywhere to him —rushed forth as utterly mad as ever man was, Where should he go—what Should he do to subdue the fire that eoEsumed him? _

In ether yean Philip Darey had been beast by one evil habit-the love of strong drink. But he had conquered it nobly—heroically conquered it; and since the day on which ha enteiwi thw office of the egad jurist who had been his first legal tutor he had not touched the, to him, fatal cup. r <. ~ ! Blindly, recklessly, caring for nothing, his life a chaoe, he plunged on, and without a thought—without premediation—he turned into a gorgeously furnished and brillian'ly lighted saloon, where a merry, jovial erew were holding high wassail. Toward morning two of his companions helped him home. Toward noon, on the following day, he -JLawoke andsat up. . It was a considerable time before he him after a time, and it all came back miirwirwinw » m nows The blow had been terrible. There is no need that we should ex-

pose the aadnees, th* Borrow, the dread calamity and the downward, downward course of the next twelve men ths! For one whole year Phillip Darcy drank fearfully. The tears and prayers of his frienda had no effect to roatrain him; no shame, no Buffering, no degradation startled him from the road to utter ruin. Late one evening, as Philip was wandering the streets, not vary badly off, a friend took hifl arm and led him home. As they entered the small receptionropm they heard voices in the drawingroom beyond. |One wav that of the hofl'.est; the other Isabel Marwood’a. Darcy knew it in an instant, and, having heard his own name spoken by tbe lady of the house, he grasped the arm of his friend and held him still. And in a moment more he beard Isabel Mar wood speak these words—they were burned into his brain and he could not forget them: “Yes, I rejected him. And wasn’t it a good thing for me that I did ee? Heavens! what a life for a wife to live. Yet I pity him. Idoceitainly pity him.” Ph ilip threw his friend's arm from him and rushed hem the house, and daylight found him walking not the streets but a quiet secluded cross-road away out in the eountry. She—she—pitied him! She had been fortunate in rejecting him! “Heavens! What a life for a wife to live!” As he kept repeating the words over and over to himself a great horror of his present life rose within him. He resolved to be strong again, and sought the shelter of his friend Archie Gordon’s house.

And thus it came to pass that Mary Gordon became Philip Darcy’s nurse, for he was very i l—almost at death's door—as a result of the course he had pursued; and but for the the tender, watchful, tireless care of Mary he might never have arisen from the couch of suffering. And now, as the conch of suffering became a couch of blessing, he knew which was the true love and which the false. Before he had become strong enough to leave the house the playmate of his childhood, the friend and companion of his youth, his deeply and truly beloved Mary, had promised that if he lived and needed her she would never leave him more. Another thing happened while Philip was an inmate of Archie Gordon’s dwelling—as acceptable as it was unexpected. A man whose paper his father had indorsed for several thousands and which he—the father—had been obliged to honor, had been away in the land of gold, and had gained a new fortune, and full restitution for all the father had lost on his account. So when Philip and Mary were married there was a snug sum of money in the bank for a rainy day. Two years passed and a man came out in society with a “grand splurge.” Arnold Fits Warren he called his name. He carried things with a high hand and cut a wide swath, Isabel Marwood fell into the trap at last. Arnold Fitz Warren must have believed she had money or he never would have bothered himself with marrying her. At all events, he proposed and was accepted, and the marriage speedily followed. J net one week later on and officer made his appearance with awniairi took Arnold Warren’s (the “Fite” had been a.. mere fancy of the moment) splendid equipage for debt And a few days after that, while Isabel’s husband lay in the drawing-room drunk, another officer came with a warrant and took the man himself. Isabel Marwood never saw her husband again, but she occasionally saw Philip Darcy, and saw his happy, blooming wife; and the time came when she looked upon his bright-eyed, beautiful children, and, thus knowing, the years crept upon her apace. What her thqughts—what her feelings—who shall say? ————? ' ■ ' ' -

National Conventions.

The number of delegates to the Republican National convention will stand thus: From each congressional district of a state, 2; from each state at large, 4, and from each territory as well as from tne District of Columbia, 2. This will make the number as follows: District delegates 660 State delegates at large ...... -... ....M2 Territorial delegates at 1arge.......................... 15 District of Columbia delegates. 2 £7 If "TT0ta1.........................................................882 Necessary to a ehoiee. 412. In a Republican convention a majority vote nominates, while a two-thirds vote is necessary in a Democatic convention. The following shows the number of delegates which were at the Republican National conventions since the party was founded: Yearn. . Delegates, 1 Yeiar~ Delegates. 1866.. ...............669 1872.... J864_................U80.......;..:..?. i ....d.756 1868 660 1884. 881

A White Season.

Philadelphia Times. It is more and more apparent that the coming summer is to be what is called a “white season,” White will be tnerage in everything—white gowns, white fans, white gloves for evening, and even white stockings, which, among some of the most fashionable women, have already superceded black. Whole suite ofWhitewißbeextonsively wOrn.with hats snd bonnets to match. Last runnier white was not much worn.

THE TYRANT DRESSMAKER.

A Woman's Wail Over the Methods and Work ol the Modistes of ToDay. The melancholy days have come, among the saddest of the year, when woman renews her ancient ttiuggle with the dressmaker. There are dressmakers, dressmakers cheap and dressmakers high, dressmakers fashionable and dresamakers unknown to fame and fortune, but they are ad bound together in one common Inability to get on smootnly with their patrons. Why should there be so much trouble over women's clothes? There is a subject for philotophical investigation! Is it in the clothes or the woman or the dressmakers that the difficulty lies? Probably in all three, It used to be thought that it was because women made the <1 reuses and were not good business people as a c'aee that the trouble came. But now we have given men dressmakers a pretty thorough trial without solving the difficulty. Undoubtedly there are thousands of incompetent women doing dressmaking as a stop gap, without any knowledge of tbeir bosinessor business pridejbutthere are also women dressmakers that are the equals of the beat men, but there are none ofjeither sex who can be depended upon. ;I saw net a week ago a gown made in London by the most famous English tailor that would have disgraced any twelve-dollar-a-suit women in New York. Who ever heard of a famous tailor giving a man a sc it at his highest price, that did not fit, and waa too short here, and to s wide tnere? Nobody. And for the best reasons that the man doesn’t live tnat under such circumstances would take it and pay for it. And there must be one main root of the difficulty. Women are easily bullied,—

Another doubtless is that, ss might be expected that being true, they are given to bullying where they can. Douotless the dressmaker could a tale unfold, whose lightest word makes them all resolve to t tie it out on the fixfet helpless customer that they dare to. There is stillahother thing that makes women’s clothes a fruitful source of sorrow, and that is their variety. Even tbe etherial kjgiercon descends to call attention to the fact that if you want a good dinner you’d better get the cook to prepare identically the same meal every day for a week ahead of the crucial date.

Given a few varieties of style and men’s clothes are all made alike. Only .the measurements will vary in a dozen suits. Almost every woman's new rig is an experiment. Yet we don’t want to change that. Even for'the sake of peace we can't desire to reduce women to the monotony of men, even if it were a less ugly monotony. / Undoubtedly the main trouble for women with their dressmakers comes from tne absence tof distinct business standards on their part. When the great London tailor made that atrocious spit for my iriend he presumed not only on her meekly patting up with it,ybat on the fact that if she didn’t other people would and that conjt quentiy he didrbtTftrawhat she did. He keep* up his reputation with notablfs 'and celebrities. For them he takes pains and inakes beautiful gowns and consequently and snobbishly /other women flock around him and take what they csri'get. Hr * That ij the usual method of the great dressmakers. Bat yon say there are numbers of well dratsad women, how do they come by their clothes? I can tell you—by fasting and prayer. Eternal vigilance is the price of good clothes. They alter things themselves after they are sent home, they buy new cloth and pay extra for corrections of absurd mistakes; they tike things from one dressmaker to another to get them fixed, they throat up one gown ai an utter failure and take a fresh start on another one. Sometimes they train up a dressmakerin the way she should go, through some special hold on her. Before Mrs. Potter became famous enough iif that is what yen call it) to have Wof.b and Felix competing for the privilege of making her gowns for nothing— whenjssbe was st It Mrs. James Brown Fotteron a small income in fashionable society, she, with that immense.jexecutive ability she unquestionably possesses, created her own dressmaker. She took a little, cheap, un* known 1 womans who showed some" taste,and she taught her and e uperintended and gave her all her work to do, so that the woman had every inducement to do the best she could, and assail the worid'knows, she did very well. I Mrs, Potter had, the advantage of knowing something about sewing herself. / That is because she is a Southern Woman. The Southern woman does not know as much about housekeeping is the Northern; she is very apt to know nothing of it, and to never have seen the inside of a cooking-school or to all intents and purposes of a kitchen; hut she generally doesknow how to sew; and and make her own clothes. Mrs. Potter's little woman was riot enterprising. She did not make that connection tothestoppingstonetofortune that she might. Once given a start there is no business in which merit

makes a more immediate and brilliant success than in dressmaking. It is not twelve years since a woman I know was just getting her first little work to dp tor good customers—a few well-known and beautiful women—and patiently going to their bouses ascot to fit them. Going to them was the inducement she offered to get their custom. It is now two years since she retired with a fortune, though her name ktU adorns her old business place. But this woman had the uncommon combination of business sen’s and arfi t’c ability. Forty dollars was her final price for any kind of a suit, or for an even ; ngor dinner dress. *>. She began by making servant girls’ gowm:—jhe was an Irish woman from the serving class—at four and five dollars. Forty co'lars is the usual price for making with any of the people of standing, and as soon as they became really swell they furnish their patrons with materials and refuse to make up any otherp. The good tailors make nothing for less than a hundred dollars. These are absurd prices. Before Amei leans had completely corrupted London a pound would pay for the making of a dress at a fashionable place. But Americans have a very creditable horror of badly paid work and there would be small complaintof dressmakers prices if the bast insured good work. As a matter of fact it is a chance if they do, and that chance it best if you can find an ambitious worker desiring to become fashionable and not yet arrived at that destination.

TRADE AND LABOR.

Philadelphia Record. A London firm has agents in Pennsylvania and Maryland buying up walnut lumber for furniture and decorative purposes. A Boeton paper says that a company with a capital of $200,000 has been formed at New Bedford for the manufacture of cotton yarns. A. L. Bohrer, of the Houston Comp my says that the shafts of ocean may be welded by the new process of mending by electricity. Kentucky’s sale of lumber last year was about 125,000,000 feet, “wo/th over $1,500,000. A Lu mbe:-dealers’ ExchangS is projected at Louisville. , BhrapsviHe (Pa.) furnace employes* have been notified of a reduction cf 15 cents a diyon turnmen and 10 cents on laborers’ wajes, to begin on May 1. The Olcott iron foundry, of Albany, N Y , which has a capacity of thirty thousand tons a year and has bean idle, has been bought by New York parti e?. The Qotton Manufacturers’ Association of Canada met at Montreal recently and reported an improved trade, partly because of large expor s to China. The Michigan Stove Company, of Detroit, has acceded to the request of the molders, whoasked that the price for each castinghe marked on the pattern. Minneapdtis (Minn.) stone-masons riave a nine ; hour day. The carpentars will shortly apply for nine hours at the old rate of pay, and they will probably win. At Pittsburg, Pa., pavers received $4 a day on granite block and $3.75 for cob-ble-stone work. Rammers are paid $4.25 a day for granits bloak and $4 for ecbblegtUM " ~ Newark (N. J.) workingmen have denounced the hots brewers of New York whose men are on a strike. 'New York crafts have also decided to fine members who drink pool beer. A company with a capital of $5,000,000 hes been formed at New Yorx to engage in the refining of sugar bv electricity, which Henry Friend claims can be done at 75 cents per ton. The Operative Plasterers Union, of New York city, has made initiation fee SSO for plasterers who come from England and other places tmd who return at the end of the season. A Pittsburg firm will establish at Findlay, 0., a factory for milking seamless steel pipes, where the use of natural gas at the plant will operate to cause a saving of $350,000 a year on fuel. President Ktiley, of Case Sshool, Cleveland, O , says: “The finest specimens of architecture in all ages have been religious in their character and have largely taken the form of temples. A Butchers’ and Meat-cutters’ Union has been formed at Buffalo, N. Y.Tne boiler makers have organized a branch of the International Boiler-makers’ and Iron Ship-builders’ Association. The American Manufacturer shows that 250 blast furnaces in the United States, with a weekly output of 116,347 tons, were in operation on April 1, tmd 300, with a capacity of 85,297, were shut down. Every year hundreds ot stone-cutters come from Scotland to this country, join the union and go back to Scotland and live in luxury on what they have earned here. To put a stop to this the stonecutters’ unions of Pittsburg and New York have raised fee from $lO to SSO. Some coke operators have consolidated and formed a company with a capital of $1,200,000, which will control 1,550 evens, the second largest in the Connellsvil'e region. Frisk & Co., own 2,765 ovens, the Schoonmaker Company own 1,007, and the Connellsville Coke are 12,468 ovens in the Coneuaville district.

THE BANK OF ENGLAND.

Something About the “Old Lady of Threadneedle Street.” The Financier. A recent criminal trial; in London, England, in which the conversion of a New York draft into Bank of England notes (formed a perfecting link in the chain of evidence by which the prisoners were convicted, suggests a brief description of the bank’s mt hods with regard to ths issuer. The paper of which the rotes are printed is made by a private factory in Yorkshire tinder strictly guarded conditions, and with the water mark which is SO consp'etiotia A feature. It is of silvery white and so strong that it will sustain fifty pounds weight when suspended at the corners. The printing is performed at the bank in Threadneedle street, including the signature of the nominal maker of the draft. The drafts or nctes used formerly to be signed by arsistaut cashiers, but the issue eventually became too large to admit of a sign manual being issued, so printing Was substituted. Each individual note as soon as issued has its number, letter, date and denomination placed to its debit in a ledger account, the per contra being filed on the return of the note, perhaps the next day, perhaps in fifty years’ time. Some years ago a lot of Al notes issued in the middle of last century were handed in for payment. A reference to the ledger of that date showed the credit side of the note account, with corresponding numbers, to be open, so toe drafts were duly honored. The lowett denomination now issued is of £5, the highest £IO,OOO. A notable feature of the Bank of England note when compared with that of other issues and countries, is its crispness and clearness. The simplicity of design and clearness of lettering and figuring are also very conspicuous. Tbe reason why we never find tattered and foul Bank of England bills or bank notes, as toe Englishman prefers to call them, arises from the custom of the bank never t j iesue one of its notes a second time.

Thia rule is to scrupulously observed that should a thousand of £5 each, issued in the morning in exchange for gold at the issue department, come into <he hands of the banking department as *k customer’s deposit in the afternoon, .without having been untied, they would be immediately canceled. This cancellation is performed by tearing off the signature corner of eich note, the number and the date being first recorded by the receiving clerk in his counter cash book. The mutilated bills st the banking department are collected at short intervals by a clerk from the accountant’s department, where they are sorted into their respective denominations and placed to their individual ledger credits. They are then stored, and after ten year’s interval consigned to the flames. The detection of a forged bank note is almost inevitable under this system. Simply to imitate the paper is diflflcult, the difference in the best imitation being readily perceptible to a practiced touch. To counterfeit the printing is almost impossible, owing to the absence of complexity to confuse the eye, and a third reliance for the paying tel Ur as he rapidly scans the note before shovelling out the gold in exchange is a peculiarity in the formation of certain letters, known only to the initiated. Should a forgery slip through these guards, the numbers and date and denomination must all correspond with the ledger entry, and should all these agree the chances are that the legitimate note will have already filled up the blank. < It is the rule in all London banking houses, and in meat private establishments, to record the date and number of every bank ncte passing through their hands, together with the name of the person presenting it. The Bank of England, moreover, requires the endorsement of the holder on every note or parcel of notes presented for ex-, change for gold or for notes of other denominations. This system greatly facilitates the detection of fraud, and in the case which gave occasion for these remarks was the direct means of establishingthe prosecuting attorney’s theory. The actual cost of each Bank of England notoissued is about five cents/An ordinary day’s issue of notes, with a oorresponding number canceled, is from 20,000 to 30,C00, but when a forgery is known to be afloat all of that particular denomination are poured in by their holders for exchsngeor redemption,tmd as many as 80,000 notes under such circumstances have been presented and canceled in one oay. - As an offset to this expense the yearly gain to the bank in notes destroyed by fire and water amount to a large sum, which, however, is taken into account by the Government when adjusting its national debt and exchequer arranges ments with the bank. The “Old Lady of Threadneedle street,” as the Londoner lovingly calls the instition, which, next to his Queen, he most deeply reveres, is very liberal when dealing with cases of notes destroy ed or mutilated. The secretary’s office attends to those matters, and there may be seen daily remnant s of notes which have undergone every conceivable oxdeal short of absolute destruction. Little pulpy masses which have peas? d

through the digestive apparatus of dogs and children, half burned pieces that have unwittingly done duty as cigar lighters, remnants of every kind al which enough is left to indicate in the fainteet degree the original worth—all receive fall consideration, and the owners lose nothing. Even total destruction, when fully proved, is no bar to indemnification, when good security against possible mistake is given.

USE AND ABUSE OF TOBACCO.

A Plea» in Favor of the Man Who Loves His Pipe or Cigar. TTST I | Bti«nce. -j; : ' , “In every land and in every clime where the use of tobacco prevails it causes degeneration, degradation, de-basement-physical, mental and moral —disease and death, or individual and national decadence.” Such is the statement of Dr. George J. Ziegler in an article on “The Tobacco Poison.” “I do not believe there is any more harm in smoking a cigar or pipe after eating than there is in drinking tea or coffee. Any luxury carried to excess carries with it a penalty. For my own part, I consider that smoking sots as a sedative and equaliser ot the temper, assieta digestion, and is a medium of sociability among men that should not be discarded.” So rays Dr. A. E. Adams, of Danbury, Ct. in an article entitled “Is Smoking Injurious?” The doctors disagree, says the New York Medical Journal, but there can be no doubt as to whose view is nearer the truth. The broad statement of Dr. Ziegler is contradicted not only by general experience, but by the undoubted fact that such countries as Germany and the United States, two nations which are certainly not suffering from decadence, consume three or four times more tobacco per capita than do the Spaniards or Italians, nations of by no means so vigorous a vitality. The real facte as to the influence of tobacco on the health are fairly well established, and the occasional outburst of anti-tobacco fanaticism does not affect received medical opinion. Tobacco is pernicious to growing children. Used in moderation, the majority of healthy adults can smoke it without harm. It does not in these shorten life or produce degenerative changes. Nearly one-half of Professor Humphrey’s collection of centenarians were tobacco-users. It is particularly harmless to those who live outdoors and engage in physical work. It is particularly apt to injure thoee who live indoors. The worst feature about its use is the difficulty some persons have in smoking in moderation. This is especially true of brain workers, audit is for this reason that physicians never advise the acquirement of the tobaceo habit. But among the great mass of working people the use of tobacco is apparently a harmless one.

PUT GRIMLY.

The Dean Swifts are net all dead yet, as witness the following compilation by a writer on the San Francisco Wasp. Men cling to their wives for various reason*: Through mere love of comfort, as one is attached to a good kitchen utensil. Through heart, as one Hkes the cozy arm-chair he h always certain to find in one place on coming home. - Through economy; you conld not hire a servant who would not cost you twice as much and serve you only half as well. Through pi ide,just as one persists in refusing to consider a foolish choice one has made, lest people should talk about it. - Through love of pease; a separation would causa so mueh scandal and create so much trouble. Through fear of public opinion; what would the neighbors say, and her, friends, and, above all her relatives? Through imitation; * everybody else dings to his wife, so one must do like the balance., Through instinctive attachment to the children one has had by her. Through force of character, just esa great soal bears a catastrophe without a , word of complaint. Through virile dignity; one must respaet one’s name, yon know. Through legal compulsion; there is no cause to offer for a suit; there are no facts to justify it. Through philosophy; all women resemble each other. ’ Through a spirit of penitence; “It is all my fault, all my fault, my most grievous fault.” ——~; —— Through pettyvanitv, because every we says: “Oh, what a splendid woman!” Through remorse of conscience: “Poor little woman, it is not her fault that I am tired of her.” Through spite: “80 I have been caught in the trap! Ab, let others fall into it bIeo!” And now, ye untrustworthy apostles of domes tic worship, that I have summed up these variations of conjugal attachment, find me the household I have been looking for 10, these twenty years, in order that I may add: “Sometimes after a few months of married life a man still clings to his wife through love!” Kansas City. Mo., carpenters want a ni ue-hour day and 80 cents an hour; The union haanver 700 men. Last year wages were 20 and 25 cents an hour for a ten-hour day.