Rensselaer Republican, Volume 27, Number 24, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 7 February 1895 — Page 2

DUPIE’S PREDICAMENT.

Chicago Mall. “My head aches,” said De Puyster Jones, as he rested his dome of thought on his; right hand and leaned .his elboirctt the tableF“Pqor dear,” said his wife. “Ihaveshooting pain&up and down my” back, Mrs. ears ring. My breathing is difficult, and I am suffering from palpitation of the heart. There is a sort of mist before my eyes and pains in all my join ts." ' ------ -; ‘ ‘Oh, Dupie, how you frighten me I I’ll hurry and call Dr. Sedgwick.” “You'll do nothing of the kind', 7 madame. At my age a man is either a fool or his own physician. I know exactly what is the matter with me. It is an old complaint in our family, Mrs. Jones. Bring me a quart of boiling hot water.” “How do you know that you haven’t got appendicitis, Dupie, or some of those other horrible new diseases?” “Bring me a quart of hot water, M rs. Jones, and don't get hysterical.” “Are you in great pain, De Puyster?” ' “I shall be in less when you bring me what I asked for. A man who can't stand pain, Mrs. Jones, has no right to get married. ” jlaggie brought a quart of water, steaming from the kettle.' Mr. Jones, drank it in little sips and swallows. Then he groaned violently.A —r “Dupie, you’ve scalded y burs elf,” cried Mrs. Jones, in alarm. “Maggie, you mean well, hut, you don’t know anything about what a man has to suffer. Scalding, hot water is the only thing that will do me any good. “Can’t I hold your head, Dupie?’’ “Mrs. Jones, if you will kindly retire and leave me alone with my disease I shall be obliged.” n. It was an anxious night for Mrs, De Puyster Jones. She tossed on the bed in the spare room for hours. Finally she succeeded in getting off into a troubled sleep. Some time later she was awakened by the pressure of an icy cold hand on her forehead. She started up in alarm. “Mrs. Jones,” sounded the voice.of her husband in the darkened room, “Mrs. Jones. I am suffering unedurable agony.” “Oh, Dupie, dear! shall I get you some more hot water?” “If you wish to make fun of my pain” “Let me make you a good mustard plaster, Dupie?” “How often have I told you, mad--ams -that-Ia case of-severe and sudden illness a trained physician should be sent for at once?” “But I thought, Dupie, you —•” “Nevermind what you thought, Mrs. Jones. The time for action has arrived.” “I’ll call Dr. Sedgwick, De Puyster.” “And tell him to hurry. I’m perfectly calm, Mrs. Jones,’but I may as well tell you that I consider my condition critical.” in. Bridget, the cook, went hurriedly down to the lower flat for Dr. Sedgwick. Meanwhile Mrs. Jones had put De Puyster back to bed with a hot water bottle at his feet and a compress on his forehead. Dr. Sedgwick came with a big case of medicine and another of instruments. Mr. Jones greeted his arrival with the groan. Dupie's pulse, the doctor said, was normal, though his skin was- flushed. Then Mrs. Jones held her husband’s head while the doctor opened his mouth and tbok a £nap shot of his interior arrangements. “Most alarming," he said, when he had completed the survey. “Your husband is suffering from severe inflammation of the alimentary canal. .The membrane is greatly irritated. There are also indications of bacillary undurated escula pius.” De Puyster groaned again despairingly. “Is it as bad as that," doctor?” whispered Maggie. “What are the chances of his recovery?" “We’ll pull him through all righty madam. It may be necessary later to remove a small portion of the duodenum. At present the best thing vou can do is to feed him on cracked ice. This will allay the thermal inflammation and afford at least temporary relief." Mrs. Jones filled a bowl with cracked ice and brought it to the bedside. “If the doctor ordered it, Maggie,"groaned De Puyster, feebly, “I suppose I’ll have to take it. But these sudden changes of diet are enough to kill anybody.” « • iv. “flow do you feel now, Dupie, dear?” asked Mrs. Jones at 7 o’clock the next morning. “Thank you, madam,” said De Puyster, stiffly. “The agony has abated." “And, Dupie, dear, I have an Idea." “Yes," assented her husband in a doubting tone of voice. “Do you remember what we had for dinner last night?" , “Perfectly, madam. Beefsteak—very tough beefsteak -potatoes, preserves and coffee, and— —” “A Welsh rarebit.” “Well, Mrs. Jones?"' “Isn’t it possible, Dupie, that the rarebit didn't agree with you?" “Do you mean to insinuate, madam, that nothing more than stomach ache was the matter with me last <jight?” “Don't get angry, Duple. Only

<1 vr>u know I felt a little shaky mysdf last night after eating the rarebit. I didn't have as many symptoms as , ?y ou— d id, and of courselcouldn’t kay anything about it when* you were so ill.” ' -“A wpman whq Will jeer at; her husband when he is lying onH bed or pain, Mrs. Jones ‘ Oh, Dupie, I’m not jeering. I think youare the bravest, dearest man in the world, and I shouldn’t bfe a bit surprised if -you- did have that ajyful disease the doctorspoke of.” - -- “Funny thing what fools doctors are." said De Puyster Jones to “Bob” Rogers, when the drug clerk came into the store the next afternoon . “What’s the friatter now?” asked Mr. Rogers, sympathetically. “We had a rarebit up at our house for dinner last night, and it gave me a bit of a stomach ache. My wife insisted on sending for a doctor, and just to humor her. I let him come. He poked down my throat and felt my pulse an<J told me I.was suffering from something with a name a foot loufl? In fact,4ie rather thought an operation would be necessary.” “And you’re all right this'morning?” “Why, certainly. The stuff the doctor forced on me stirred me a bit, but otherwise I’m as sound as a new dollar. Next time I’ll insist on having my own way about calling a physician at all,” Dickens’s Place in Literature? Frederick Harrison in t>.e For.un. A A . • The glory of Charles Dickens will always be in his “Pickwick,” his first, his best, his inimitable triumph. It is true that it is a novel without a plot, without beginning, middle or end, with much more of caricature than of character, with some extravagant" tomfoolery and plenty of vulgarity. ‘ But its originality, its irrepressible drolleries, its substantial human nature and its intense vitality place it quite in a class by itself. We can no more group it or test it by any canon of criticism than we cotild “Pantagruel” or “Faust,” There are some works of I genius which seem to transcend all criticism, of which the very extravagances and incoherences increase the charm. And Pickwick ought to live with Gil Blas and Tristram : Shandy. In a deeper vein, the tragic scenes in “Oliver Twist” and in “ Barnaby Ru dge” must long hold their ground, for ..they can be ■ read ’ and reread in youth, in manhood, in old age. The story., of Dotlieboys Hall, the Yarmouth memories of Copperfield, i Little Nell, Mrs. Gamp, Micawber. Topts, Capt. Cuttie, Pecksniff ’ and many more will continue to delight the youth of the English speakling races. But few writers’ are re- ' membered so keenly by certain -e Itara e-t-ers, ce rtai n ■ scrn e.s, - i neidental whimsies and so little for entire novels treated strictly as works of art. There is no reason whatever ■ for pretending that all the scores of t ales are at all to be com pared to the best-of themy or the4ftvention of some-Hfi m4am e scenes ami chararacter is enough to make a supreme I and faultless artist. The young and the uncritical make too much of ; Charles' Dickens when they fail to 'distinguish between his best and his worst. The fastidious seniors make too little of him when they note his many shortcomings and fail ' to see that in certain elements, of '•humor he has no equal and no rival. I If we mean Charles Dickens to live we must fix our eye on these supreme gifts alone.

KEROSENE ON CHICKENS.

Examined Thein With a Candle and Great Commotion Ensued, San Francisco Examiner. Seven chickens, a bucket of coaloil, a tallow candle and a woman who knows how to use them in combination, stirred up the <ireatest sensation out on Pearl street in San Bernardino last niffht that has disturbed the serenity ’of that district ■in many a year. Mrs. John Sea- ■ bury was until iast night the proud . possessor of several specimens of r the galHnacean family: -Of-Iffto the I- birds have b een aliijet ed with vermin, and at dusk last night Mrs. Seabury, armed with a bucketful of oil and'a candle, started for the henhouse. She also took u brtfsh along with iHiich to auplv the coal oil. and a candle was placed on a board,while the work proceeded. Each bird received a supply of-oil; and when saturated the lady took up the light to make a closer inspection of her work. While trying to look at two chickens at the same time the candle happened to touch one, and, swish, several chickens w’ere' fired. The poultry studio was filled with more noise than a barnvard full of fowl would make over the first egg of the season, while the whole interior became as light, as if the Monterey’s searchlight ha I suddenly been turned on full. Suddenly seven animated torches shot out in as many different directions, all cackling like mad, and winding up three seconds later in a hay stack, which they began to fire in true incen liarv style. By this tipe everybody in the block was yelling “police,” and a general alarm brought the fire department on the quickest run of the yehr. Mrs. Seabury hns tiie roma-ins of seven chickens out on Pearl street, somewhat charred, but free from insects. The farmers need not expect a good small fruit patch if he merely plants and does not take care of the same. It must be “kept clean and sprayed for the prevention of rot, mildew and kindred evils.

OUR PLEASURE CLUB.

Father—You must know, sir, that my daughter will get nothing from me until my death. Suitor (pleasantly)—Oh, that’s all right, sir, .that’s.all right; I have enough to live on for two or three years.

BEFORE THE BALL. (Life is surely a dream.)

AFTER THE BALL. (With my chrysanthemum hair,)

Caller —Wonder if I can see your mother, little boy? Is she engaged? Little Boy—Engaged? Whatcher givin’ us? Sh&’s married.

MAKING LIGHT OF RELIGION.—JOIIN H. CASSEL.—Inter Ocean.

Johnson—Mr. Howells gets twenty five cents a word for all he writes. No author ever received such a price. Bronson —No, except Patti when she wrote that soap advertisement.

He was so very thin That when he was under the weather ' He could not tell which side was well They were no near together. ’ —W. N. Cassel.

Use. “Well, Tommy, have you learned anything at school?” “Yes, sir; I've learned to wear a lung protector, in the seat of my pants.”

IN CHICAGO. She —I do hope, Edwin, you will not have to wajk the door with the

twins to-night. You are so goodnatured about it, too —you nevert lose your temper. He—My dear, we must be prepared to make these ’little sacrifices if we expect to catch up with the Greater New York. A jiuSEUM EPISODE. Manager—What’s the row in the dining-room? Waiter —The Two-Headed Wonder has got tangled up eating macaroni.

THE HOME STRETCH. —JOHN H. CASSEL. —Inoer Ocean.

Manager at Dime Museum —Was the contortionist put on the stand in our damage suit trial? Assistant —Yes, and the opposing attorney tied him up in a hard knot. Gent —Where were you employed last? Servant —At a writing master’s. Gent —What were you required to do? Man Servant —I had to keep shaking the tablewhen a new pupil wrote the words, “This is . my handwriting,” before commencing to take lessons.

Ch, mother, phase, mother, come home with - .nff-noy : The alteriieori’g slipping by fast; You taid you were coming right home from the pells As soon as your ballot was cast, Poor father came in for bis dinner at noon, And not a mouthful could he And, And the words that he said as he slammed ths front door Left a strong smell of sulphur behind.

He Spoke Italian.

Blankwood's Mag»zlae. There was a sportsman who, when he missed his bird, and he always missed it, was given to .uttering an Italian oath. As this was when he fired, his loader had acquired the same habit. The man was a bur|y North countryman, with a decided Yorkshire burr, and not at all the man you would expect to be au Italian scholar. It became quite a stock joke to induce any stranger to say to say to the loader: “I understand you talk Italian.” “Oh, yes, sir,” replied the Yorkshiretnan, and immediately fired off a string of Italian oaths strong enough to make your hair stand on end, .

Noblesse Oblige.

Chicago Tribune, “Hello. Harkaway, are you still in town? I thought you had moved out West and gone into the mining business." “No, I didn’t go. That scheme fell through.” “Then you’re not going to leave us?” “Oh, yes. I’m getting ready to move.” “Where are you going?” *‘l haven’t decided yet, butSl've got to go somewhere, Higgins. The boys in the clubs I belong to have given me half a dozen farewell dinners, and as a gentleman and a man of my word, I can’t stay here any longer after that.”

Motherly Solicitude.

Puck. The . cannibal family gathered around the bountiful board. “I understand," the father casually observed, “that this is the cadaver of a millionaire.” The mother started in sudden apprehension. “Now, children," she exclaimed, “don't forget what I told you about overloading your stomach with rich food. ” '

Colonel Seott's Poker Story.

Chicago Record. Colonel James W. Scott’s latest story ts of a man whose wife was rF'" proaching him for his fondness for an indulgence in poker. “But, my dear, ’remonstrated the husband, “it’s a-very modest game, and we have oif> a ten-cent limit." “But, why, Charles," urged his wife, pleading y, “why have any limit at all?"

TOPICS OF THESE TIMES.

‘•WHAT KILLS US.” *' People die from a variety o! causes. Some have been known t< perish for lack of breath, but this route to the great beyond is considered very old-fashioned now-a-days. Strictly upHo-date people are saic to prefer “heart failure” as a means of exit from this vale of tears. Out observation is that this form of exit is coming more and more into vogue with peoplewho are generally classed as “upper ten.” In fact we do not recall a single case of heart failure among what are generally termed the “mudsills” of society. They may occasionally perish from this cause, but the cases are rare and the lynx-eyed agents of the Associated Press fail to make a note o! it. Large numbers succumb to’common diseases like consumption anc pneumonia, a andj their passing makes no ripple cn the human sea—the manner of their taking off being too commonplace to excite comment or gain for them a word of sympathy or recognition from the surviving mass. It is only when death results from unknown or uncommoc causes that the monster awes or thrills or startles all mankind into a realization of impending doom. Thousands and tens of thousands perish every day as a result of nature’s laws, and the world rolls on, while people never pause in their mad pursuit of fame or wealth or pleasure. A hundred lives go into darkness by fire or flood or crashing wreck on land or sea, and nations stand aghast and breathlessly rush to aid the few survivors. The New York World has recently been investigating the relation between the death-rate and density of population,, the rate having been supposed to be much higher in densely populated quarters of large cities. Investigation has shown that the death-rate in large cities in 1895 was per 1,000 as follows: New York, 21.8; London, 19.05; Calcutta, 30; Paris, 20.5: Moscow, 34.5; New Orleans, 27.05: Bombay, 32.05; Prague, 28.05; City of Mexico, 40. Minister —Romero, now stationed at Washington, in a recent article in the Engineering Magazine, shows that this excessive death rate is due to bad drainage. The climate of the high table lands of Mexico is especially salubrious, but the soil of the City of Mexico, the site of the ancient Aztec capital of Tenochtitlan, is so saturated with the accumulated" im piilrl ties "of ’many centuries that the sanitary condition has become simply abbminabl'e~’and practically irremediable.

HOW WE GOT HERE.

A noted theosophist has recently written a labored article to the New York World in which he attempts to prove that man originally—or at least previously came from the moon. He has discovered evidences —satisfactory to him—which lead to the conclusion that there was a great “blow out” on the moon at an uncertain date. A huge chunk of moon was shot into space at an astonishing speed, and a few decollette and distracted mortals are believed to iave taken passage on a voyage of discovery without any elaborate toilet preparations. In fact, they didn’t have a rag to their back. Just how these airy and statuesque voyigers managed to escape serious consequences from the inevitable collision with this planet the writer does not explain. They may have .anded in a mud hole. At any rate, they “got there” and setup housekeeping under the most adverse and unpromising circumstances. They were probably terribly homesick for a time, but communication with the scenes of their childhood’s happy dreams had been broken off. The Yutlook fnust have been gloomy, Indeed! But they prospered, and learned 'rithmetic, and begun to “mu'tiply upon the face of the earth." Their descendants finally made Rome howl and built Chicano and the World’s Fair. Many of them, even to this day, are flourishing in the United States Senate and the Indiana Legislature, trying iq vain to clog the wheels of time, perhaps, with an ill defined hope thal by some occult power they may regain their far-off heritage. “Backward, turn backward, oh, time, in thy flight give us a ride to the pale moon to-night." For ourself, we do not take much stock in the theory, but if it serves to account for the vast number of “moon-struck” people in this country the romance will not have been in vain. There was once a certain divinity professor, a grave and learned man. He had five daughters, whom his students irreverently tiamed Genesis Exodus, Numbers, Leviticus and Deuteronomy. Beginning his lectures one day, the professor said; •‘Gentlemen, I wish to speak to you today about the age of Genesis." JJoars of laughter from the students. “Genesis is upt so old as you supoose," continued, the professor. More roars, so long continued, indeed that the worthy man had time to think before be made his next renark. He said timidly—and ho managed to hit the mark this time—• “I may not be thinking of the same Grenesisthat you are." •

A WOMAN’S NERVES.

STORY OF A WOMAN TO WHOM NOISE WAS TORTURE. - r ; - ■■■'. " " ----- Prostrated. by the Least Excitement —Physicians Baffled by Her Case. ~Ksoknk. lowa.} —■ „_Mrs. Helen Meyers, whose homo is at \ ernon avenue, Chicago, and whost visit -to Keokuk, la., will long be remembered, was at one -time afflicted with 1 nervous malady which at times drove het nearly to distraction. “Those terriblj headaches are a thing of the past,” she said the other day to a 'Gate City repre - sentative, “and there is quite n. story in .connection with it. too.” ' ”My nervous system sustained a great shock some fifteen years ago, brought on, 1 believe, too much worrying ovei tamily matters and then allowing my love for my books to get the better of my diswhere my health was concerned, hy, when.ef.er my affairs at home did not go alongpjust as I expected, 1 would nivariablyJiecqme prostrated from the excitement and I would consider myself fortunate indeed if the effects of the attach would not remain for a week. I was obliged to give up our pleasant home not far from the Lake shore drive, because I could not stand the noise in that locality. I could find no place.in.the city which 1 .. deemed suitable to one whose nervous system was always on the point of explosion. To add to iny misfortunes, my complexion underwent a change and I looked so yellow and sallow that I was ashamed from the house at all.” “Madam,” said my doctor to me soon after an unusually severe attack of the malady, “unless you leave the city and seek some place of quiet, you will never recover.” So I concluded I would visit my uncle, who lives in Dallas County, lowa, and whoso farm would surely be a good place for brie in my pitiable condiJiom. J jjicked up the Gate City one day and happened to come across an interest--Uig-recital ot-tlni recovery of some woman in New York State who was afflicted as E had been. This woman had been cured by Dr. Williams' Pink Pills for Pale Peo-. pie. I thought that if Pink Pills cured' that woman they might do the same for me. I began to take the pills according to flireetibns, and I began to feel better from the start. After I had taken several boxes of them I was ready to go back to Chicago. aiy complexion was as fresh as that of any sixteen-year-old girl in lowa, and. Pink I’ills is what put the color in my cheeks. No wonder I am in such high spirits and feel like a prize lighter. And ■ tto wonder I like to come to Keokuk, for if it had not been for Pink Pills bought from a Keokuk firm I would not have been alive now,” laughingly concluded the lady. Dr. Williams’ Pink Pills contain all the elements necessary to give new life and richness to the blood and restore shattered nerves. They are for sale by all drug-! lists, or may be had by mail from Dr. Williams’ Medicine Company, Schenectaiy. N. Y., for 50 cents per box, or six boxes for $2.50.

A Maligned Bird.

Often in the evening, an hour or sc after sunset, the outdoor naturalist may hear from the shade of a thick hemlock, or from a grove in some ravine, a prolonged, quavering note. Though tinged wiill .mehincliory, it is soft and musical, and it is; indeed, as Lowell says, one of the sweetest sounds in nature. And yet 11 1 is Js the ch ar; ict er. • istic note of the bird, vyh'ieli has gained, foe reasons unknown to me. the unpleasant name of “sereeCh-owI.” This pretty little owl. perhaps the prettiest of the family, is but slightly longer than a robin, but looks much larger on account of the fluffy feathen and large head. It is louiul in tern■perate North Amerrca. and is jquitt commori*ih most of the Eastern States. Generally it lives in the woods, but il is fond also of frequenting barns, old orchards, and groves near the water. It is very courageous, and can kill -other birds as large as itself; but usually it preys on mice and grasshopper. Its mousing abilities' are so wonderful it has been aptly named “the feathered cat”; and its great yellow eyes, ear-like tufts, and nightprowling habits all unite to make the name suitable. The soft call already described ii teally the love-note of this 'owl. It is its gong just <as* much as the prolonged chantings of any of oui common birds are their songs; and it will be heard oftenest in the early ipring, although it is not unusual for this owl to sing nearly the whole year round. Here, then, we have in this little owl an example of bravery, industry, and cheerfulness; and these qualities are shown by the very bird of all others that is least credited with them; for, if names and reputations are to count for anything, surely the very last bird to which we would look for an example bf-courage and merriment would be an owl, and above all, a screech-owl.— Ernest E. Thomnson. in St. Nicholas.

An Easy Way to Find the Distances.

Several veteran railroad men were seated in the smoking com psrtment ol s Pullman car the other day. The irain was due in Detroit about two nours later. A discussion arose as to the rate of speed that they we traveling at. One of the party guessed that the train was going over 48 miles an hour. Another estimated the speed at U miles, another at 50 and so on. Finally one of the men took out hid watch, held it in his hand less than half a minute looking at it steadily all the while. “Weave going 46| miles an hour,” ae said, looking up from bis watch. One of the other men thereupon took jut his watch, held it in the palm ol bis hand, and kept his eyes rivited upin the dial, never once looking out of the window. After the lapse of half a minute he looked up and said that they were traveling at the rate of fortyjeven males an hour. •‘Hbw can you tell the rate of speed ay simply looking at your watch?" inquired an interested witness of these proceedings. "Why, easy enough,’’ replied the 'ailroud man. "You know every’ time the car passes over a rail joint there is i distinct click. Just count Lhenumoirof these clicks in twenty seconds tnd you have the number of miles ;he train Is going per hour. This is a simple matter of arithrh stlc, as tho •engLh of the rail is uniform.” It is announced that Whitelaw Roltl Is a social success in Paris. Ho his m >re invitations to dine out than ho ciiu possibly accept This is accounted miulalerlul success.