Rensselaer Republican, Volume 23, Number 45, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 9 July 1891 — Page 2

AN OLD WARM FOURTH.

By A. W. Bellaw.

“I think I overheered you folks sayin’ az how this was a hot day." said the fat passenger in th® seat ahead of us, as he slowly turned around and leaned over the back. “It's nothin’ to the Fourth of Julv of 1878 out thar in Kokomo. Ind. That day would wipe out sich a day as this one, and dry up the grease spot. But let me illustrate it. I was down in Panama the New Year’s afore, and spent that day and evening with Signor Gum pus, Jr., a son of Signor Gumpus, Sr., a rich ole planter. [Yes, I smoke, thank ye.] Well, az I said before, I asked him to return my visit in good order es he ever got to Indiana, an’ he promised to come sometime in the next summer.az any other time 'ud be too cold an' unfeelin’ fur him; a leetle too rare and raw. “At noon on this Fourth of July he came as onexpected as twins. When .1 grabbed his han’s I found they were az cold az the icicles what the iceman is leavin' at our house now, a-holdin’ a umbrella over'im to keep the sun off, ’n his finger nails war. blue, an' he waz a tremblin’ all over like a aspen leaf. I got him inter the house quick ex I could, before I'd melt, 'n the fust thing he ast fer was a room with a fire in it, er two fires! Jis think of it! He said, in a weak kind of a language, that he was freezin’ to death, an’ wanted to know if the north pole was anyways close here, an* sea that he had come away without any flannelsor overcoat, expectin’ to fin’ it warm. While I was wroppin* him up with a blanket and startin' a fire as well as I could with two fans in my han's, I tole him this was the hottest day that was ever warmed over; that the oldest inhabitant that once knew a hotter one was dead an’ repentin' his lie now. Sez he, ‘Please close them winders an’ keep out the draft,' an’ he even ast if everybody was out on the river today a-katin'l “Then I sez, ‘My friend, our thermometer shows 141 degrees in the shade, an’ it's a short an’ modestone or it would say furder up. The parade had to be guv up, fer the brass band couldn’t get wmd enough to do their blowin,’ neither cud the orator, ’sides no one wanted to venter out; several bed tried it, but holes was burnt in ther umbrellas. Why, ’ sez I, ‘the water everywhere has* got a crust baked on it. Folks jis sets their dough out in the sim an jumps back, an’ it's baked too done es they ain’t quick.’ People who lias looked out swear that the sun scrapes the tops of the hills it is so close; an’ it takes a two-inch board to cast any kind of a shadder, while the sunbeams is knockin’ the corners offun chimbleys 'n the corners of houses. ’ An' that was a red-hot fac', stranger fer, b’George, the very dummies in front of clothing stores jumped inside of the their own accord; they cuden’t stand it. neither cud the Injin fellers at the cigar stan’s. All our fireworks in a brick house went off by instantaneous combustion. Why, my words dried up so fast it was* hard for me to get ’em clear out. It even dried our liars up. [Thanks, that looks like good stuff. My mouth is nearly as dry as it was then, but not quite.] But he was used to a hotter climate, that’s the way they gits down thar, an’ he sed, *Sacremento, California! but it is cold. Don't you expect snow to-day?’ “I know it war no hallejination of his brain, an’ felt awful sorry fer him, 'n tried to keep him comfortable every way, fer I saw he wouldn’t keep up in that kind of animate, fer he wasn’t put up fer the purpose, while I got so everlastingly hot myself that I thought if he’d just touch me he’d burn up. lam not a liar or a son of a liar, gents, but before night he got so froze we had to take him down to the creamatory an’ bake him to thaw him out. Ye may not believe me, but he came out’n that furnace like a feenix or a salymander, an’ we had to bundle him up an' start him home. Got a letter from him later sayin’ it took him a month to get the cold out o’ himself. No, this is hot my station. I’ve got sum other things to tell ye almost az true az this.”

REUBEN’S OLD DAD.

He Almost Lifted the St-ate of Ten’ nessee. N. Y. WoriA I got off at a small railroad station in Tnenessee to find a crowd in front of a saloon, and as I began inquiring the cause of the excitement a' young man of twenty turned and replied: “Stranger, I kin tell ye all about it. Do ye want to see the corpse?’’ “Then some one is dead?’’ “Dead as a coon track, and it's mv old dad at that!’ “Been a row here?" “Not a bit of it. Dad jest made a fule of hisself. He's in thar waitin’ fur a cart to take hisself home to be laid out and buried. ” “Never seed nuthjc’ to ekal it in all my bo’n days!” said a man in the crowd. “I was right yere. or I wouldn't bare sniggered to it nohow,” added a second. “It was jest this way. stranger,” continued the son, as be picked a sliver off a pine box and began to whittle at it with a springback jackknife. “Dad an’ me comes down yere this mawnin’ to buy a mewl. Dad was powerful frisky all the way down, ana he sez to me, sez he: “Reube, I kin out-walk, out run, out-shute, out-holler and out-lick anyth n’ on top of this yere airth’s

i surface, and I'll bet our farm agin a drink of Nashville whisky on it!' ” “I sees dad was purty chucky, and I sez to him, sez I: 7* ‘Dad, you's top of the heap around yere, and nobody kin deny it, but doau you go <*s4, nieet U P no fight in’ to wn. We*s arter a mewl, we is. and we doan' want no fussin’ nor nuthin’.’” “And with that dad jumps fo’ feet high and cracks his heels together, and whoops out that he's bar-traps, pizen. powder and catamount, all biled down into one, and that he's dangerous if anybody goes to pick up his bind foot.” “Yaas, and I hears him holler when he's a mile away," said one of the crowd. “Of co se you did, ” replied Reuben, “of co'se. bad was powerful on the holler. He'd holler a b'ar out’n a tree half a mile away. When we got down yere thar’ was a feller from Memphis with a patent liftin' masheen astandin' right here. Thar's the pjpcps of it agin the fence, while the Teller hisself is ten miles away and still runnin’.’’ “But tWasn’t his fault.’ protested a man on mule-back. “I ain’t sayin' as ’twas,” placidly answered Reuben. “lina-sayin as dad got mixed up ani made a fule of hisself. No sooner had he sot his eye .on the masheen than he cracks his heels together and crows like a rooster and sez to me, sez ho. “ ‘Reube, I kin pull the hull durned State of Tennesee right up by the roots if I kin git a brace fur my feet, and I'm going tb try it," “I tried to shy him off by talkin' : mewl, but dad was powerful sot in his wavs, and he crows some more and hollers: ‘ “Whoop —whoope! Lcmme git hold of them there handles, and all yous who don't want to tipover wh«n the airth con ts ’up had be ter h b; to the fences: x».eube stand back gimme room!" “Yaas, I heard him say them remarks,” put in one of the crowd. “So’d I," added half a dozen voices. “Of co'se he said 'em,” continued, Reuben—” of co'se. Nobody's denying that he said 'im. Dad iust figgured on pullin’ most of this yere airth up as easy as you kin lift the top crust of a pie. He spit on his hands, grabbed them ere handles, and when he straightened up I jest felt the ground trembling all around. ” “So'd I,” called seven or eight voices in chorus. “Dad had one side of thehull county lifted up two foot high, when there was a rip and qsmash—them handles tore out, the masheen flew to pieces and the airth sunk back with achugg, which made us dizzy." “Then your father had broken a blood-vessel, or something of the sort?” I queried. ‘ ‘Skeercely, stranger—skeercely. Dad wan t no man to stop at one blood-vessel. He jest busted hisself all to pieces, and was a goner afore we could reach him. I might say he sort o’ run together and caked. He was six feet high when he grabbed them handles, and now you can't make him over four foot ten as he lies in thar on a board. Jest pulled his knees up and his shoulders down, and I reckon his lungs would hold his galluses up if thar was any buttons on ’em. The man who owned the masheen wasn’t to blame —of co’se he wasn’t—but when he seed the calamity he started fur Knoxville on the jump, and he was jumpin’ when he turned the co'ner of the hill up thar! Dad’s in yere. stranger. Come and take a look. Mighty good man. dad was, but a leetle too coltish when he had about fo’ drinks of applejack under his shirt bosuin. Crowd back thar. boys, and make room. Doan’ act like you never dun met up with a calamity spectacle befo’!”

SOMEWHAT CURIOUS.

Ten days per annum is the average amount of sickness in human life. A Wilbur (Wash.) man is proud of two strawberries, one nine and a half inches and the other eight inches in circumference. John M. Evitt reports seeing a buzzard with a bell on its neck near Ringgold, Ga., recently. The bird is quite a large one. and the tinkling of the bell could be heard a considerable distance. After the 23d of this month no person or firm doing business in South Carolina will be permitted to sell a pistol, or even a pistol cartridge, in that State without first taking out a license and paying S2OO for it. Fields Martin, who lives near Flowery Branch. Ga., has worn a coat only a few times since the surrender of Gen. Lee. He says he feels more comfortable without one. no matter how cold the weather is. 1 A cave-in on the farm of J. 11. Miller, eighteen miles from Sedalia, Mo., at the head of Lake Creek, revealed an underground river.. The water is twenty-five feet deep, and the stream is very rapid. Queen Victoria now rules, subject to the wholesome limitations of the British Constitution, over a popula tion scattered in the four quarters of the globe and the islands of the sea. aggregating 367,000,000, a greater number than has ever acknowledged the sovereignty of one person in ancient or modeni times. A prospector in the Mingo moun tains, up near Kettle Falls, Wash.. a few days ago. came aeoss a peeu liar animal with three small cubs. He struck the old one with a rope, whereupon she ran away, and he cap tured the cubs, which he brought in to town. They have the form of; cougar, with the head of a bull-dog

Between the Way a Man Carries a Baby and the Way of » Woman. Did any one ever notice with what exquisite ease and grace a mother carries a child? There’s no poetry of motion in all the Delsarte system equal to it. A big, strong man lugs a baby along as If it were a bundel of pig iron. A slight, frail little woman swings it up on her shoulder and poises it like a nosegay, or, better still, a veritable part of herself. A woman isn’t suppose to be mindful of the charms, of her sisters, but the heart of a man somehow gives a leap of the cleanest, purest kind of admiration when one of those slight, frail little women trips alongside with a baby balanced on her shoulder in that comfortable way a real womanly woman manages it. In a little country meeting house the other day there was a military funeral. The drum major of the village band sat in a post of honor surrounded by his resplendant corps, and in his lap held two little whitecapped mites of humanity that hadn't been here very long. Up ln the choir loft a little woman smiled down upon them encouragingly with eyes exactly like the eyes beneath the little white caps. Directly the closing hymn was finished and the muffled beat of the drum sounded the signal for the band to follow the flag draped casket, that little woman, with a swift tide of color sweeping over her face, fluttered down the steps, in and out among the horny handed “bearers” across the church to where the father sat with both infants sound asleep. Without waking either, she tossed the one up on one shoulder just where its little sleepy head fell in the hollow of her shoulder against her neck, tucked the other one underone arm, but somehow so comfortably it never wakened. Then she tripped smilingly down the aisle so swiftly and lighted and gracefully that, though she wasn’t exactly a pretty woman,and hqd had both babies since she had bought a new bonnet, and the seams in her dress bodice weren’t the right shape at all, any painter or poet or man with an ounce of blood in his veins would have envied the fellow in the bearskin, who seemed a little bit ashamed.

Christianity the Remedy for Social Evils.

Harper’s Magazine. If Christianity were univesally adopted all social evils would vanish; there would be few very rich persons; comparatively few would be poor and those would be worthy of abundant sympathy and help, which they would receive. At a gathering of socialists at the grave of Carl Marx, celebrating the anniversary of his death, one of the speakers declared, “The three things which the world needs are soldarity, energy and self-sacrifice.” Self-sacrifice Is another word for disinterestedness, and this needs Christianity, for, as F. D. Maurice, the English rector, socialist and friend of Kingsley, said, “Be very sure of this, that no human creatures will be found saying sincerely ‘Our brothers’ on earth unless they have said previously ‘Our Father who art in heaven.’ ” Prescriptions for the relief of symptoms or for deadening sensibility to pain can at best serve but a temporary purpose. If while serving that purpose they divert attention from constitutional maladies which if left to themselves will inevitably prove fatal, the good that they may do becomes infinitessimal injeomparison with the evil. Reformers may or may not have doubts of the supernatural origin of Christianity, and may or may not openly ally themselves with any of its visible TbTßnr. but without its aid, directly or indirectly, any scheme which antagonizes Christianity must be limited in its application and restricted in its duration to the lifetime ot its founder or his immediate successor.

M. QUAD.

Texas Siftings. There is no bravery like that involved i» the forgiveness of injuries. ■The man who forgives has two victories—one over himself, one over the person who has injured him. Men are not slow to appreciate and to applaud virtues they are not so ready tp imitate. They will understand that the sublimest human act is that of forgiveness. But to appreciate a noble act is a great deal easier than to perform one precisely like it, just as it is comparatively easy to look upon the sublime heights of a mountain; but it requires a powerful,longcontinued effort to reach and stand upon those heights. The man of meanest capacity makes himself more than the peer of the man of the loftiest capacity, if he forgives him. He who revenges an injury makes himself the inferior, not only of his enemy, but of all other's, because he has stooped to a base act. Revenge is generally disproportionately severe, even if a man’s judgment is taken as a standard, and he who practices it has laid up for himself a long harvest of regret and remorse, while the man who forgives is at peace with himself and all the world, and has transformed his enemy into a friend.

Presidents of Spanish-American Republics.

“The perpetual wars of the Span-ish-American republics,” said a Spanish-American to a New York Sun man, “are largely owing to the fact that we put military commanders, at the head of our governments. In Chili we have Gen. Balmaceda for President: in Guatemala we have Gen. Barillas; k. the Argentine Re-

A MARKED DIFFERENCE.

Forgiveness.

Sublic, Gen. Pellegrini; in Salvador,* en. Ezcta: in Costa Rica, Gen. RodHonduras, Gen.Bogran, in Mexico, Gen. Diaz; in Paraguay,Gen.* Gonzales, and there are still more Generals in command of other republics with full military' power. In Venezuela Dr. Palacio is President, but he also may as well be called a General. We see the same thing in the Portuguese-American republic, Brazil, of which Gen. da is President. It is largely because Spanish-Americans put their governments in the hands of military men. that lhey are forever at war, forever fighting in civil wars or in foreign’ wars. It is natural, I suppose, that Generals should be of a belligerent disposition and anxious for militaryJ glory. The administration of the civil affairs of a republic should be in the bands of civilians, but the republics of Spanish-America do not realize this fact.”

Three Dangerous Women

St.Douis Globe-Democrat. Beware of three women. The one who does not love children, the one who does not love flowers, and she who openly declares she does not like other women. There is something wanting in such, and in all probability its place is supplied by some unlovely trait. As Shakespeare says ot him who has no soul for music, such a woman is fit for treason, strategy and spoils, and a woman intent on these is ten thousand times worse than any man could be, for, standing higher, she can fall lower. Men may smile and jest a little over the tenderness lavished on a baby, but after all the prattle every womanly woman involuntarily breaks into at the sight of the wee creature, it is very sweet to masculine ears. It was the first language they ever knew, and in spite of the jest or smile, the sweetest on wife or sweetheart’s lips. They may laugh, too, at the little garden tools, which seem like playthings to their strength, but in their* hearts they associate, and rightly, purity of character and life with the pursuit. And as for the woman who does not care for her own sex and boldly avows it, she is a coquette pure and simple, and one of the worst and lowest, type, too, as a general thing.

Truth About Mad Dogs.

Brooklyn Eagle. For the benefit of nervous people and excitable policemen it deserves to be said that dogs do not go mad in hot weather more readily than they do in any other sort of weather. As a matter of fact rabies is a malady with which the weather has nothing to do. Ordinances requiring dogs to be muzzled during the summer months are the product of a superstition which science long ago exploded. If veterinary statistics werd adopted as a guide the muzzling would be enforced in the fall and spring rather than in the summer, although the excess in the number of cases at those periods is not so uniform or so large as to indicate that changes of temperature are instrumental in producing it. Further more, the veterinary reports show that upon an average out of twenty suspected cases of rabies only one is a real case. When a person has been bitten it is advisable to confine the animal rather than kill it, in order that its symptoms may be accurately determined.

Curiosities About Beans.

Of all edible pods, it is believed that the bean has been the longest known and most 1 widely cultivated, says the St. Louis Republic. It was us*ed as food by the ancient Jews and considered sacred by the Greeks and Romans. A temple dedicated to Kianetes, the god of beans, formerly stood on the sacred road near Eleusis. Kianetes was called the god of beans because he was the first to cultivate them for food. The bean feast, which the Athenians celebrated in honor of Apollo, was characterized by the excessive use of beans. The Egyptians, contrary to the nations above mentioned, considered beans unclean and would not venture to touch them. Pythrgoras admonished his scholars, ‘ i Abstain from beans.” The natives of Egypt and most all Oriental nations look upon the black speck on the wings of the bean flow’er as the written characters of death.

The Masons of New York.

N. Y. sun. “We keep our secrets in the dark,” said a Free Mason, “but it is not now a secret that we have over 75,000 members of the Masonic fraternity in the State of New York. Yes, we' have a mystic shrine, and we wear aprons, and wc have symbols and ceremonies, and we meet in lodges,'find we have masters and apprentices, and we reveoe King. Solomon, who built the Temple of Jerusalem, but I cannot tell you any more, for the rest is secret in the dark. Is it worth while to join the fraternity? That is for you to find out after you get into it. We do not ad vis 5 people to join it.”

Dropping the Shop.

Boston Transcript. Brown—“ Yes, Mr. Gusher is a fine pulpit orator, but I like to see a man consistent. He preached a most pathetic sermon on the parable cC the good Samaritan last Sunday and then went home and threatened to set his dog oh a little beggar girl that came to his door. That’s a nice man to put in a pulpit, now ain’t it?’’ Fogg—“lt certainly shows him to oe a man of good breeding. When he gets through with his work ho sinks the shop/™

OUR PLEASURE CLUB.

India a* polls Hoosier, AN ITALIAN OPERAZJV /7FZ SC£N£S.

I.—“ Satan finds some mischief still for idle lands to do."

ll.—While the two daughters of sunny Italy an liscussing the prospects of trade, Jimmy take tdvantage of the opportunity.

lll.—And when the two ladies, wishing eaci Other good luck, start on their respective ways,

IV.—There is a heavy fall of stocks.

I.—Well, this is better than « dog fight I"

THE BRIDGE POLICEMAN.

■Jew York World. < I was walking down the promenade x> the New York entrance with Scot;y when we met a bridal couple—an jld chap about fifty-five years old, who had just been * : jined" to a young woman about twenty. They had hold )f hands as thej walked, and a broad jrin of happiness spread over each lace. “Isn’t it singular how foolishly a lewly-married couples will behave?” [ queried of Scotty. “Hush!” he replied. “Itis a new world to them, and they can be. forgiven for it. Don’t you do anything to hurt their feelings.” “Mornin’,” saluted the bridegroom *s we met. “Morning, sir,” replied the officer as he lifted his hat. “Te-he-he! Tumble to the racket, [ s’pose? Can't help it though, can we, Nelly?” “It’s a bridal tour, I take it,” obterved the officer. “You bet! Te-he-he! Bridal toui' with a big Bon the bridal. I’m the happiest old cuss in the State of New York, and Nelly is just the cutest, lovingest little turtle dove ever born. Eh, Birdie? Te-he-he!” “Well, I like to see folks happy,’ said Scotty, as he picked up a lost vest button and added it to the day’s relics. “You have come down to see the bridge. I suppose?” “Yes. This, Birdie, is the great suspension bridge. I told you when we was courtin’ that if we ever got married we’d come here we are!” “How nice!” she replied. “Yes; but it don’t hold a candle to my little roily-polly angel!” he said, as* he put his arm around her and lifted her off her heels. “Don’t, Tom!” she whispered. “Te-he-he! She’s bashful, you see!” he explained to Scotty. “Birdies alius are. She was so scart when we stood up tn git married that she almost fainted away. When I popped the question she ran right out doors and clear down to the cornfield, and it was a hull week afore I knew whether she was going to have me or not. So this is the bridge?” “Yes, sir.” “Why, Tom, how high it is!” whispered the bride. “Of course it is,” he replied, gleefully. “Didn’t I tell ye that ye’d <dt the beat husband in the Mohawk valley and see the biggest, highest bridge in the world, all m one? Ain t ye glad ye said yes when I asked ye? Course ye are. Ye wouldn’t trade

That HaißiMr mm. He is an awful nic* boy. says Ruth Ashmore in The URKes' Home Journal. He may wear a very gorgeous blazer, and he may talk athletics in the afternoon and sentiment at night, but he is off for a vacation. Won't you just, remember that? You are a pretty girl, and a brigh: girl, and he likes to laugh ana ta x vith you, take you out rowing teach you to play tennis, and at r. ght sit on the veranda and tel. you how a man really can love. All of this is delightful. But will you please be good enough to remember that love worth having does not come in a week or a month, and that in his watch-case there may be the face of a girl whom he loves with all his heart, and whom he thinks about every night before"he closes his eyes. You are just part of his vacation; and won’t you be wise enough to make him a part of yours? If, when his vacation is over, he should come to your home, what was merely a summer acquaintance may ripen into a friendship. Well, that’s another thing. But just for the sunshiny time don’t allow yourself to think too much about what the summer young man says or does.

No Counterfeit Infidels.

Exchange. “Did you ever see a counterfeit $lO bill?” “Yes.” “Why was it counterfeited?” “Because the genuine bill was worth counterfeiting.” “Did you ever see a scrap of brown paper counterfeited?" “No. ‘‘Why not?’’ - - , ‘ ‘Because it was not worth counterfeiting.” “Did you ever see a counterfeit Christian?" “Yes.” “Why was he counterfeited?” “Because he was worth counterfeiting.” “Was he to blame for the coun terfeit?” “Of course not.” “Did you ever see a counterfeit infidel?’ “Why, no." “Why not?" “Ahem.” We pass the above catechk® along.

A Hard Worker.

Boston Courier. Dudeleigh—Aw. Nicely, old fellow, you look tiahd. Nicely —Jove, old chanpie, but I should fawncy I m>gat. Been working all the raawning. Dudeleigh—Working? Why, how, old fellah? Nicely—l’ve been lubowing jmdah an impwession. The newest way to arrange a lace flounce is to festoon it twice across the front of the skirt, first half-way down and then near the edge, turning over the top in a hem and running in a ribbon

yer old Tom fur President Harrison and forty cows to boot. Officer, how long is this bridge.'' ’ .‘“A little over a mile.” “W-h-e-wl Think of it, Birdie.” “How loveh,” she wispered. . “Lovely! Of course its lovely, but ,it don’t begin with my little p«R I wouldn’t trade you off fur a million’ sich bridges as this. Officer hain t she jlst old peaches!” “Tom, Tom!" she chided as she drew away. “I think it a very happy carriage, sir,” replied Scotty, “and I hope you may have a long life before you." “Happy marriage! Te-he-he! Why, it’s the gaul-darndest, happiest, lovingest marriage that ever took place in old Mohawk. I was a widower and was moonin’ around and declaring that I wanted to die when I met this gal at a spellin’ schSbl. From that very minit I wanted to live.” “Tom, you musn’t,” she whispered as she turned away. “I truly hope that you will," repled Scotty. “And say,” continued the bridegroom as he drew the officer three or four steps away. “I want to ask you a fair question.’' “Go ahead. ” “Do I look old enough to be her father?” “No, sir.” “By George! put ’er thar. There was a one-eyed, scrubby little chap about twenty-five- years old who wanted her the worst way, and who told her I was over fifty years old. Hgw old do I look to you?” “I should call you about thirty-five years old." “Put ’er thar! I wouldn’t have missed this fur S4O! I’m a day or two over thirty-five, but I wanted an unbiased opinyun! I’m so gaul darned pleased that I’d li'reto whoop. Say?” -Well?” “We come down to see the bridge, but we’re both so taken up with loving each other that we can t think of nuthin’ else. You’l excuse us, I know. You've prcbably bin thar yourself.” “Yes, I have.” “Then you’ll excuse us and we ll go now. Come s’mother time. Te-he-he! I feel so gosh-fired tickled that I could throw a steer over the fence and tak again." “That’s awful, I said to Scotty as the couple locked fingers and walked away. “It isn’t anything of the kind!” he replied. “They love and are happy, and if I catch any one giggling at ’em on my beat I II run him in!”