Rensselaer Standard, Volume 1, Number 7, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 2 August 1879 — Page 1

Tixe eto.-ndft.rd-znuzir urvtiMi*. —Published Evert Saturday,— —■r— KIRVIN O. CISBBL. TE>U«: Ona copy, one Ymr_ • atx liatto - * . “ -< three modUm » O*nca:-la] LeapoMl Mom Bulldin*, «p ■uun, rear room.

MY TRAMP. * MA BY V. WTVBGBB. Thet '* he K*in! I know hta whoop A« he >uUn« down the Une, No need U> stay till he calbt for “grab, With hU thee «<»in*t the pane. Ab I aet me here In myeaeyefcair I can note the Bwa«rering gait t N hi* win tm mt feet, but I'll go at once, My tramp doesn't like to wait. Little brown breeches and brimlesa hat! . I eould tarry me yet for awhile, And ponder, my young king-democrat, With a moUier-phlloaopher’s smile. The possible future of your young rule, The Imperious doctrine learned Ho early, alack!-Ho meat! bo bread!” Of the store you have never earned; Could divine of the little tanned, tired feet, Wbat sort of a road, by and by, ; They would travel apace, and at even time To whataort of home would hie. -HP bread! ho meat!” would he And them there? These are all the names be knows ~ rtw vto' great (tod love that makes the home, Tor the fullness, the repose. Ab, apple cheek and chestnut curls That are lying upon my breast! I wonder II thia is typical Of the day *s end and the rest! And I lay my little tired worn-out tramp On his little bed all white. As 1 pray that the blessed Savior’s arms May gather him In that night. —[Christian Union. ;

THE FOSTER BROTHER.

“Asa lx>y I lived in a small town in West Virginia. When I wan about 14 I met one day at the gate of the front yard, a ragged, red-headed latl of my own age. • “ ‘lk it a h’y to'carry coal, or dig, or drolve the carnage,ye’d be wantin' the day sur?" he asked with a laugh and a Isiw. “My father wanted a l*>y,aud I urged him to lake tills on *. “ ‘ Wiiat is your name* he asked. “ ‘Michael, sur.’ • “1 took Michael out to show him the coalbinH, [HIi up, ami his room over the stable. A.s I turned to leave him,' I said ‘Have you only one name?’ “His fai-e grew nil an hie hair. ‘l'm the O’More, sur.’ “ ‘l’m poor, sur, and I worked my way acrast from the old country. But my grandfather was the head of the family; he’s dead, an’ ho's my father. I’m the O’More. I’m the first of the name as ever went out to ad-vice.” “ ‘Ami what brought you to it*? Why did you leave Ireland?’ • "I followed my foster brother, sur.’ “I soon forgot* Mike in the anxiety qf preparing for a Christmas party my mother was to give me. That evening she said to me, *1 have been to call on the family who have bought the Bcro*»pe property; Their name is I>everidge. There Is but one son, a Ixiy of fifteen, and I invited him for Christmas eve.’ “Master Leveridge was the first to arrive oh the momentous evening. His step-mother came with him. •‘ ‘A children’s party is a new thing to Arthur,’ she said. We keep our l»oys and girls in the nursery longer than you do; but it will do him good. ' When I married Mr. Leveridge I found the boy had no companions but the children of his foster-mother, a low creature, living in a hovel on the estate. I was glad for his sake when we came to this country and the connection was broken oft*.’ “Arthur Leveridge in the meantime was talking with my sister, when a wild whoop rung through the room, and Mike rushed into it, a scuttle of c<ial in his hand. “‘Faith, Mast-r Arty, is it yourself? I followed ye to Baltimore, and they towld me it was here I’d find ye!” -holding Arthur’s gloved hands, kissing and sobbing over them, while the coals were seatteied over the fl<s>r. “Arthur pulled his hand back in a rage of shame, and pushed the boy savagely away. “How dare you come ■*here!” he cried. “His mother swept a irons the room to his side. Mike cowed humbly when he saw her. -. “ ‘Gently, gently,’ said my father.'Mike, leave the room, sir; take your coals and your affection where they- are wanted!’ “After a month I found that Mike was out every night scouring the streets with Arthur. Young leveridge was ready for all sorts of mischief, from ringing door-bells to breaking windows, but he was terribly afraid of being found. > “One night, * as 1 was coming home from a school concert, I saw a heap of wood at the foot of the statue of Calhoun on the square. Coming closer, I saw the figures of two boys, one on top of the heap of wood busily tying a rope /round -Calhoun's waist, the other below, begging him apparently to desist. “‘Ah, Master Arty, it’s hung ye’ll be, an’ no less?’ I heard, in a frightened whisper, from Mike. “Arthur leaped down and gave the rope a vigorous pull. Down came the figure. “There was a sound of approaching footsteps. “Ruq - ! Run!’ Mike cried, dragging. Arthur down the square. ‘lt’s stable!’' - ‘1 I “But they were too late. Shoek' started affor the retreating boys, and,

after a tough chase, caught Arthur; and Mike at ouce surrendered also. Michael turned on him furiously: “Let Master Art)' golt was I did IL He wor persuadin’ qie to stop; weren’t you. Master Arty?’ “I did try to stop him,” he said in a feeble voice. “I hurried up. Mike’s keen Irish witread my purpose in my face. He shook oft Bhoek’s hold, leaped at me, took me by the shoulder, and said, in a fierce whisper: “If you tell, I’ll kill you. I allays tuk his batin’s fur him.” “I’m not afraid of you. But you can .take your ‘batin’ if you ehoee. “Bfioek hauled them both away. The next morning the> were brought up before the magistrates. Mike told his story, and Arthur sustained him in it. Arthur was discharged, with compliments on his kindness to the poor wretch. “That afternoon, as soon as I was clear of school, I hunted up the chaingang. There was Mike at the end, breaking stone, the chain rattling at every turn. He had taken off his jacket and covered the ball with it. His eyes were swollen with crying, but when he saw me, he buret into a miserable chuckle. “That is what the O’More has come .toJ” he said. • •••••• “ Eight yean after that the war broke

THE RENSSELAER STANDARD.

VOL I.

out; Mike enlisted in the Southern army. Aithur became paymaster-in a Northern regiment When the army was in th* Shenandoah Valley, Leveridge it appears, received a secret offer of a high position on the Confederate side, provided be woyjd betray our corns to the enemy. The scoundrel consented. ’ By some chance Mike discovered the transaction. ■ Leveridge left the camp and rode down to the river side to meet the messenger from the Confederate army, to whom be was to give the •maps, statement* of the condition, numbers, etc., of the Union troops. He had the papers on his person. It was late In the afternoon when the Confederate messenger appeared and gave the signal agreed upon. Leveridge handed him the packet, when, to his astonishment, the man tore it in half and flung it in the river. •“It’s thriie, thin? It’s an informer ye’d be! I heard talk of it in the Colonel's tint while 1 waekapin’ guard, an’ I’d not belave it! You shall not do it! The man that sucked the breast of my mother shall never turn informer! I’ve saved you many a time, but I never saved you from anything loike thia.” “He turned him to want the Union picke.t-line, then hurled him from him. “ ‘There, go! and. fur God’s sake, be a man, Master Arty.’ “Leveridge panted out an oath. ‘lt was your own side I was going to help, you hound.K ‘“What’s sides to? An informer? O, Holy Virgin!’ “'rhe man stalked away~clown the river bank, the boat lay hidden in which he had crossed. He got into it and paddled over. The I picket-guard saw him as he reached the open space where the moon shone clearly. There was a sharp ring of a bullet; The poor fellow sprang convulsively forward, reeled and fell, and the water closed over him forever.” “And Leveredge is living by his wits in California —a mean, and c<>nseqqe,ntly, a miserable man.”

LYNCHING “LAME JOHNNY.

A Noted Outlaw Made Food for Buxs&rds. Some weeks ago this desperado and liis pal, Frank Harris, were capured by Captain Crawford near Camp Sheridan, while on one of. their plundering expeditions, and placed in the post guard-house here to wait the orders of the civil aulhoritfes, who have offered large rewards for their apprehension. Last Monday Duputy Sheriff Smith, of Cheyegne, arrived here with a requisition for. them. Knowing them both to be desperate characters, lie concluded to take only one of the prisoners. Starting with “Lame Jchnny,” he succeeded in taking him safety to Buffalo Gap, the scene of the recent destructive toruado, and also of the last stage robbery, wherein the prisoner was known to be the leader of the gang. Soon after leaving the stage station th c< coat'll was stopped by a party of vigi fants. who forcibly took the prisoner from the officer, demanding from him a confession and the names of his associates in crime. He replied that he had nothing to confess and neNer would betray a paitner, whereupon they told him fils hour had come, as they intended to hang him. He replied: “Hang and be damned; you cannot do it too soon.” After making this defiant remark, a rope was placed about his neck and thrown over a limb. The doomed man was raised from the ground and suspended in mid-air, where his body was left a prey for -buzzards and crows. From what the Times correspondent can learn, this man’s career was the most remarkable of any outlaw on the plain. After commit ting several murders and being concerned in several stage robberies in Texas, i>i the last of which he was severely wounded, beitig shot through both limbs' making him a cripple for life, from which he derived the soubriquet of “Lame Johnny,” he left Liat State three years ago and came to this country to commence anew his career of crime. He had no permanent home, but camped wherever night overtook him. Ever since his appearance here he has been the terror of stockmen. Horses or cattle were not safe, except under the eyes of their herders. Even at the dead of night he would steal into the camp of freighters and emigrants, taking their whole herds. His last exploit was the taking of 200 Indian ponie? from the Pine Ridge agency. In this robbery he made a fatal mistake, being hotly pursued by the military and Indians and captured, with the result above stoted. His confederate in crime, Harris, confined here, -having beard of the fate of Lame Johnny, made a dbsperato attempt to escape, but owing to the vigilance of Sergeant Ruley, of the guard, was frustrated.

A Celebrity.

W'oHhlugton Cor. Cincinnati Gaxette. The death of Madame de Catacazy, .wife of the Russian minister, between whom and President Grant, existed an “unpleasantness,” revives tne memory of her presence here at the capital, and the varied romance of her life. She was a rival of Eugenie in her young days before Louis Napoleon made the flippant beauty his wife, against the advice and counsel of his court Madame Catacazy’s first husband was a French nobleman much her senior and evidently not over much to her liking, as after living with him for several years and bearing him children, she left him and her children for Catacazy, whom, according to her church, she could not marry, as no divorce could be granted. Years afterward, her first husband* died, and then she was married to Catacazy. There is a picture of her now.at Brady’s gallery on Pennsylvania avenue, representing her posed in the position so familiar to us of France’s unhappy Empress Eugenia. looking over her shoulder, and presenting just a little more than the side view of her face and the entire v|ew of her back and shoulere. The picture is somewhat idealized, as paintings generally are, but it has caught the coloring of her magnificent hair to perfection. I never deemed her as beautiful as admiring critics painted her, because, although possessed of a splendid figure and rare coloring and clad in magnificent toilets, I could never divert myself of the suspiction of cruelty which lurked at the corners of her thin red lips and in the distended nostrils of her almost transparent nose, and which looked from the depths of her cold blue eyes. She always made me shudder when I looked at her long, and yet when she smiled

RENSSELAER, INDIANA, SATURDAY, AUGUST 2, 1879.

r and talked in the fascinating way she knew so well how to employ, I wonder at myself /or thinkifig her Cruel. The house occupied by her while here, on I street, opposite Franklin square, is is now used for a boarding house. In many a bouse in this city can be found souvenirs of china, exquisite Sevres, the Catacazy curtains of heavy satin brocade of filmy lace, pieces of the Catacazy furniture, as everything was sold at public auction when Mons. Catacazy was recalled, and the rarest things were sold ftfr very trifling prices. For instance, I saw one of the Sevres pieces, which must have originally dost $8 or $lO and was bought for $1.60!- The cut glass went for mere songs, and a pitcher of Melton ware only brought $5, while a Wedgewood plaque cost but $2 at auction price. Gleaner.

In a Water Spout.

Through the promptassistanceof the managers of the South Park road, the damages done to the track in the Platte Canyon and near Buffalo by the water spout, are speedily being repaired, and the customary travel on the road will be resumed very soon.' The telegraph wires are still down, but a statement of the true condition of affairs has been obtained through the medium of the passengers who were delayed in consequence of the storm. In conversation yesterday afternoon with a gentleman who was stopping for a few days at the boarding-house, near the saw mill at Thompson’s, the informant said: “We had a terrible hail storm shortly after 3 o’clock, and stones as big as eggs fell thick and fast. While we were standing at a safe distance from the windows, for nearly every pane of glass was broken, we saw a most remarkable phenomenon, accompanied by a dull, heavy, roaring sound like distant thunder. A large volume of what we afterwards found to be water,, was seen at the top of tne mountain, Coming closer and closer like an immense funnel. As it approached, the noise became almost deafening, and one old gentleman who was standing in the door, for? we had all assembled in and around the doorway, exclaimed, “It’s a water spout?” Out of the house and up the opposite hill we ran as fast as possible, to almost the summit. One of the parties, who was furthest down, in terror t imed around and beheld the water rushingand tearing down theopposite side, carrying with it huge boulders, uprooted trees and all sorts of debris. It struck the house and the saw mill simultaneously and carried them away like straws, not a vestige of either remaining. We stood there n terror for a long time, hardly daring to speak a wind, but finally becoming more used to the scene we began to look around us and take in the situation. When the heighthof the excitement had abated some little, an anxious mother missed her infant child, and instant search Was made for the lost little one. After an hour spent in the water and mud one of the gentlemen discovered the child in a pool of water, and .the strean. still coming down the mountain side, lying close up by a rock which also supported a large bureau, Under which the liitle one sat in the apartment intended for a lower drawer. Tne child was not .a bit frightened, but seemed to be rather pleased with its situation, and, strange enough, had hardly a scratch upon . it. The joy of the distressed parent can easily be conceived when 'the wet youngster was placed safe and sound in her arms. The water continued to rash down the gulch for several hours and we had to prepare places to sleep on the side of the mountain. Early the next morning I joined a number of men who desired to reach Denver as soon as possible, and started to walk to the train, seven miles distant. When we reached there we found it was a wrecking train with a coach attached, and after being delayed several hours for the wreckers to prepare the track, we started on our way home. In the' canyon the track was also gutted out in spots, and a good bit of it at other places had the bedding washed out and the rails twisted. Temporary bridges are being constructed to facilitate the running of the trains. An engine was run into a ditch a short distance this side of Thompson’s in consequence of the weakened condition of the road bed. Three flat cars were also carried away some forty feet, with three men on them, wonderful to relate, were not at all injured; they only receiving a thorough drenching and a big scare.—[Den ver Tribune.

Unlucky Marriages.

The truth is that these too frequent “unhappy marriages” are the offspring Of ignorance quite as much as of actual sin or *rong. Fools, and especially vicious fools, have no right to get possession of a woman’s life and soul which they cannot comprehend, and the elevating influence of which they throw away even more by stupidity than by wiliulness. A woman, by her sex and character, has a claim to many things beside shelter, food and clothing. She is not less a woman for being wedded; and the man who is fit to be trusted with a good wife recollects all which this implies, and shows bimself perpetually chivalrous, sweet spoken, considerate and deferential. The fools and brutes who abound among us may think such demands hard; but they are not nearly as bad as to live a cat-and-dog life, missing the dearest possibilities es human intercourse. •

■What right has a man to expect happiness in a household who brings no sunshine into it? What right has he to look for the graces and refinements of early love when he violates them by rough speech, ill-mailners and the disregard of those little things upon which the self-respect for a wife is built and maintained? The cynic who rails at marriages is generally one and the same with the thoughtless egotist who files Into the presence of his wife careless, stubborn and sour-tempered, though he never went to his mistress except on his beat behavior. The fete is horrible which a pure and faithful girl may endure by encountering in-him whom she weds not mere actual cruelty or injury, but stupid incompetence to understand a woman’s needs, dull forgetfulness of the daily graces of life and oblivion of the feet that wnile men have the world woman have only their homes. The grossnesses of masculine ingratitude do not, indeed, often lead to visible catastrophe nor grow into absolute tyranny, but they equally tend that way. They drag down a wife’s oul to the point where she must despair; they change

■« meaning marriage to nd weariness; they spoil the bat best and finest of all vhich each man obtains who enable good woman for his , and they cost more to a isholds than money or re-, ui ever pay back. —[Yonkers

Intellect.

laan essay by David Swing on this subject, be says : The heart responds to the intellect as a harg to thesweeping fingers. God made man a truth seeker, not simply that the seeker should know the more, but that . under the influence of wider kndwledgehis finer nature might grow as flowers under sunshine. .It is not probable that the Creator ordained the pufißuit of truth only that the passion of curiosity might be gratified, but rather that the mind and soul might grow upon such divine food. The bird and the beast seek daily food, and thus build up their organism or keep it in life, but man goes beyond, for, having fqund the food of his body, he must seek truth also, the daily bread of Ids soul. He whose body has been well fed is that noble being called Mau. The pursuit of truth is not, therefore, a simple pleasure, but it is Ebe high struggle 'or the spirit’s daily read. Hence the true man rises from the banquet table of a king not half so happy as he rises from the pages of a noble book, or from the banquet of men of science, of art, of philosophy. Children remember with delight the viands they have enjoyed, but maturerlife remembers the wise conversation that surrounded the table. In the recent “Life of Macaulay,” he expresses the experience of all his educated fellow-men when he tells how literature consoled him in his affliction. Of the letters of the Greeks, he speaks thus: “All the trlumplw of truth and genius over prejudice and power, in every country and in every age, have been tlfe triumphs of Athens. • • • Her Kwer is, indeed, manifested' at the r, in the Senate, on the field of battle, in the schools of philosophy; but these are not her glory. Wherever literature consoles sorrow or assuages pain, wherever it brings gladness to eyes which dkil with wakefulness and tears, and ache for the dark house and the long sleep, there is exhibited in its noblest form the immortal influence of Athens.” When his sister died, he wrote back from India in similar strains: “Even now, when time has begun to do its healing office, I cannot write about her without being altogether unmanned. That I have not utterly sunk under this’ blow I owe chiefly to literature. What a blessing it is to love books as I love them, to be able to converse with the dead and to live amid the unreal.” In this one mortal we may read the. experience of all the throng which has ever drawn near the wells of truth. In such master spirit earth sets up no new and individual law,'but through those sensitive souls nature becomes visible, and by being enlarged and brought near shows what a spiritual scene lies outspread in humble hearts.

Governor Allen’S Domestic Life.

At he was a candidate for Congress he was a suitor for the hand of the daughter of General McArthur, who was his political opponent, and, we believe, engaged to be married to her. Perhaps not engaged though, as she afterwards married a Colonel Coons, of Louisiana. Colonel Coons, however, soon died, and, in the course of tiipe, Allen renewed his suit and was accepted. During his second term in the Senate his wedding day was appointed, and everything made ready for the marriage. About this time the Texas annexation question came up, and he wrote to his affianced, who was at that time living in Cincinnati, asking her to postpone the ceremony until that question was decided. To this she consented, and the nuptials were celebrated as soon afterward as he could leave. He took his bride back with him to Washington, and for nearly two years life was to him but a long summer’s day of happiness. Never was husband loved more faithfully or trustingly than he by her; never wife more tender and affectionately than she by him. In January, 1847, his wife died, leaving an infant child, the daughter who has since grown up to be thehead of his household and of her husband’s. At the time o’ bis wife’s death there was no railroads connecting the Capital with the West. The fond husband would not think for a moment of consigning the remains of the one he loved and held most dear to a grave amid strangers, and so he decided-to transport them to Chillicothe for burial. So-he procured the services of an undertaker and started with them, he riding behind on horseback. When night would overtake them they wpuld stop at the nearest hotel, and he would have the coffin taken from the hearse and borne to his own apartment,where he kept watch over it until morning came and time to start again. More than a week elapsed in this mournful trip; yet at no moment during that time was his mournful gaze taken away from the last remains of her whom be had loved so dearly in life, and could scarce part with in death. After her burial he returned to Washipgton and finished his term of office, and then he betook himself with his child to the home which he now enjoys, and where he for so long led a life of retirement among his books and the study of science and philosophy.— Cincinnati Enquirer.

A Struggle With A Mad Dog.

Near Gold creek, Faulkner county, and about seven miles from the railroad, lives a man named Rhea, a farmer on a small scale. Last Monday everting, while Rhea and his wife were sitting in front of their door, two dogs jumped over the fence and ran under the house. At fint very little notice was taken of the animals, there being several fox-hunters in the neighborhood, and the Rheas supposed that the dogs belonged to them, but preasently a terrific howling and fighting began, insomuch that Rhea threw chips and pieces of wood under the house. The howling and fighting continued for some time, when at last one of the dogs darted out, leaped the fence and ran away. The other dog, a large brindle 'of decidedly ugly type, followed as far as the fence, but stopped, turned around, and started toward Rhea with ! mouth half open. Rhea stooped and

picked up a chum-dasher lying on a stump, and as the dog sprang at him struck the beast over the head. Stunned, the animal recoiled, but only for a moment, for he sprang again before Rhea had time to prepare himself. Grappling the dog by the throat, and hold- > ing his mouth as for away as possible,a desperate struggle began. The dogs eyes glared”andhis mouth emitted that froth only know to hydrophobia. Mrs. Rhea ran into the house and soon returned with a case-knife, which she handed* to her husband. Then the “oombatdeeepened.” The blunt-point-ed and dull-edged weapon went time and time against the animal’s throat without drawing blood or lessening his fory.| The strong grsap of the man kept his teeth away, out such a grip could not last long. Again the woman entered the house and this time returned with a shot gun. Cocking it and running up to the dog she placed the muzzle dose to the animal’s flanks and fired. There was a sudden give way, and a seemingly additional glare of the eyes, but no sound. Taking advantage of the first shot the gun was again fired and the animal fell over dead.—[Little Rock Gazette. * • '

The Boy and the Duke.

Christian Advocate. An English farmer was one day at work in the fields, when lie saw a party of huntsmen riding about his farm. He had one field he was specially anxious they should not ride over, as the crop was in a condition to be badly Injured by the tramp of horses; so he dispatched a boy in employ to this field, telling him to shut the gate, and keep watch over it, and ou.no account to suffer it to be opened. The boy went as was bid, but was scarcely at his post before the huntsman came up, peremptorily ordering the gate to be opened. This the boy declined to do, stating the orders he had received, and his determination not to disobey them. Threats and bribes were offered, alike in vain. One after another came forward as spokesman, but all with the result; the boy remained immovable in his determination not to open the gate. After a while, one of noble presence advanced, and said, in commanding tones: My boy; do you know me? I am the duke of Wellington—one not accustomed to be disobeyed; and I command you to open that gate, that I and my friends may pass through.” The boy lined his can and stood uncovered before the man whom all England delighted to honor, then answered firmly. “lam sure the duke of Wellington would not wish me to disobey orders. I must keep this gate shut; no one is to pass through but with my master’s express permission.” Greatly pleased, the sturdy old warrior lifted Ills own hat, and said: “I honor the man or boy who can be neither bribed nor frigutened into doing wrong. With an army of such soldiers, I could conquer not Only the French, but the world. And, handing the boy a glittering Sovereign, the old duke put spurs to his horse, and galloping away; while the boy ran oft to his work, shouting at the top of his voice, “Hurrah! hurrah! I’ve done what Napoleon could not do—l’ve kept out the duke of Wellington.

Mind in Nature.

The rational look of the world is denied by no one. Eyes look .as if they were made to see with. Ears look as if they were made to hear with. Legs look as if they were made to walk with. The nutritive apparatus looks as if it were made to keep the body in repair. Thelungs look as if they were made to aerate the blood; and the blood and blood-vessels look as if they were made with an eye to-their actual function. And in general, science every-where assumes that nature is rational and that everything is adapted to everything else. We must remember that science is not merely observation; but it is chiefly the conclusions from the observations. Science aims by the aid of reasoning to pass behind the phenomena and from some conception of the supersensible realities upon which appearances are based. But it enters info this hidden world only by thought and it implicitly assumes, therefore, that the laws of are valid for all being. Science, then, is built upon the notion that the real is rational and intelligible, and it aims to grasp the rational system which is in things. If we should assume that the real is irrational, and hence unintelligible, all our science would perish. What -would become of astromony if we assumed that the flying planet is not bound by the rational principles of mathematics? The atomic theory and the ether theory are no facts of observation, but only rational inferences from phenomena; but if tiie real is not rational, of course these and .all other scientific theories fall to the ground. We conclude, then, that there is mind back of nature which realizes in nature its preconceived plans and purposes.—[Sunday Afternoon.

The Old Songs.

Burlington Hawkeye. .“Take back the heart,” as the man said who drew one when he wanted a diamond. “Gum, gum away to the pearly fountain,” was sung by the man who dropped his store teeth into the creek. “A loan in the world,” was given with great effect by the man who had to raise S3OO by Saturday noon. “All’s swell,” was composed and sung by the man who sat down on an oak stump, using a navy-blue wasp for a cushion. “Bee ware” was the national song of the honey merchants. “Down by the sea-beat shore” was the sad refrain of a man whose Summer hotel was eat out by tramps. “Dream, baby, dream,” was sung and said very energetically by the man who patroled the floor while the colic patroled his baby. “Good-bye, sweet tart,” was chanted by the dyspeptic man who couldn’t, eat pie.“Somebody is Waiting for Me.” was wailed out by the man who hac been to the Lodge, lost his night key, and could see the shadow of his wife’s mother’s night-capped head on the curtain of the sitting room. “Larboard Watch” is the favorite lay of the recent idiot who wears two watches. ia » w The average price of the milch cow in this country is $26.41.

THE WIND AND STREAM. A brook came stealing from toe ground, You scarcely saw Its stiver gleam Among the ferbe feat hung around The borders of that winding stream— A pretty stream, a placid stream, A softly-gilding, bashful stream. A breese came wandering from the sky, Light as the whispers or a dream; He put the o’erhanging grasses by, , A nd gaily stooped to kiss the stream,— • The pretty stream, the flattered stream, The shy, yet unreluctantstream. \ The water, as the wind passed o’er, Shot upward many a glancing beam, Dimpled and quivered more and more. And tripped along a livelier stream,— • The flattered stream, the simpering stream. The fond, delighted, sflly stream. Away the airy wanderer flew To where the fields with blossoms team, To sparkling springs and rivers blue, And left alone that little stream— The flattered stream, the cheated stream, The sad, forsaken’ lonely stream. That fereless wind no more came back, He wanders yet the fields, I deem: But on his melancholy track Complaining went the little stream,— The cheated stream, the hopeless stream, The ever-murmuring, moaning stream.

THREE CARD MONTE.

Where Its Operators Hold Out—A Few Reuiinlicences of the Great Monte “Sharp,” Canada Bill. Three card monte is a swindling game at which it is impossible to beat the operator, and it has been so thoroughly exposed that there ought not be any victims. Nevertheless, the monte spider, seeking human flies of K resent wealth, dexterously handling is cards and skilfully talking the while, makes his living about as easily as he did in Jhe days of the war, when money was plenty. An old railroad conductor, now a passenger agent for the Chesapeake ana Ohio road, but who ran a train on the Baltimore and Ohio road during th*i war, relates that he knew “Cadada Bill” to gather in SB,OOO on one train from Martinsburg to Baltimore, a distance of 100 miles. “Canada Bill” is a name well known to the gambling fraternity, although he who was known by that title was some years ago laid to rest. His death, which cut off from the earth the smartest operator of three cards that ever was seen, took place when he was a trifle more than forty years of age. “Just as well to die now,” said he, when told that medicinecould not save him. “Might as well cut the game, because the cream of the monte has been skimmed. There won’t be another war, and they ain’t going to build no more Pacific railroads, and it’s bard for me to play for ten when I used to catch a hundred twice as easy.” When his last minute came, he sat up in his bed and called out: “Fifty dollars to* ten you can’t pick up the ace,” and then fell back dead. The visiting angel had turned the last card for “Canada Bill.”

That is the story told of his last moments, and may be true if the old saying has no exception that the ruling passion is strong in aeath. Bill’s great boast was that he had beaten a minister. Chicago newspaper reporters of the year 1874 remember the excitement the city editors of the papers there, except one, were thrown into by the exclusive publication by that one of the story of a well known Methodist minister who became the victim to “Canada Bill’s” wiles on a train on the Chicago, Rock Island and Pacific railroad. He lost nearly SI,OOO. Canada Bill did not have the reputation of having been the most expert dealer, but he did that of having been the most skillful operator. In the slang of his profession, “he could ring in suckers better than anybody,” and here is a sample of his proceedings that came under the Observation of the writer a few years ago: The Illinois State Fair, held at Decatur, was just over and the Grangers were filling the train, homeward bound. Bill, wearing cowhide beots and coarse clothes, got into the train Just moving from the station, and attracted attention by saying in a loud tone: “Well, no farmer has a show with rgilroaas. They kill his stock, and laugh at him . when he wants pay for iL” “What’s up?” asked his clever capper, and Bill related : “I brought three head of Durham calves down here from 'Winnebago county, and I got premiums on all of them. I was having them put on the cars to send home, (by this time the attention of every Granger in the car was attracted) when the consarned fool lets one of them break a leg on the bridge from the cattle pen to the stock car, and they had to kill itto put it out of misery. I wouldn’t have taken S2OO for the calf, but the railroad tells me I was shipping at reduced rates, and ain’t got any claim.”

The conversation that ensued and the statement that Bill had made put him on the best possible terms and in the confidence of all the Grangers, and. so when he spread his overcoat and said first, “I’ll sue the road, anyhow,” and then, “I found this little game that’ll be funny for the Winnegago folks, any way,” he had no lack of listeners and interested watchers and after that is accomplished the work of the three-card monte man is easy. Human nature, rich with avarice, does the rest. Bill drew out his cards and proceeded to tell how he had won $530, after losing S6O, “just as easy,” he went on, “as this. Now, here’s the money,” and he pulled out a pig-skin pocketbook. tied up with twjne, which he undid and exposed a pile of notes to the amount of several hundred dollars. “No discount on that; easier made than turn a long furrow.” His capper asked an explanation and Bill told him all there was in it and lost forthwith S2O to his accomplice. By this time half a dozen pocket books were out and bets came in freely. In half an hour the train reached Tolono, where passengers change for Chicago, and Bill about S2OO ahead, got up, remarking, “Well, gentlemen, I’m going to Chicago to see a lawyer about recovering for that calf. Good night*” And before the astonished grangers could realize the situation he had disappeared through the door. Half an hour afterward he was seen on the northern bound train dressed in the height of fashion and looking like anything but the coarsely clad man on the Wabash road. It is said that Canada Bill made SIOO,000 during his career as a card-thrower, but wheu he died, in Council Bluffs, lowa, he left just enough of money to give him a decent burial. Like many of his professions, he found at the ferotable bis greatest pleasure, and his winnings went from him more easily than

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NO. 7 .

fthey came. He was a great player of draughts, and wen much mqney that way. Of his’early life, not much is known. He was born and lived for some years at Peekskill, New York, on the Hudson River, just below Poughkeepsie. He was often isrrested, bdt never stayed long in prison. After the war his field of operation was mostly on the Pacific Railroads west of Omaha. Himself a man of daring and personal courage, he often had to race men more desperate than himself, but his presence of mind never deserted him, and when everything elfie felled he was as ready with a weapon as his adversary. He never drank to excess had no intimate friends. Some years ago he visited Philadelphia. It was in the days, when fero flourished here, and the strict orders of the police had not substituted poker in private for fero In gambling rooms. Bill came with $5,000 in his pocket. He was the guest of a well known Sansom Street sporting man, and Bill remarked to his 1 host: “I’m only going to lose SSOO a night, so I’ll stay ten days.” He went -into a Ninth Street room that evening and left the entire $5,000 on the ‘table in less than two hours. For a month or two he operated in this v icinity Every week he would come back from his trip with two or three hundred do lars, and at every visit he left it all before the box. ' One night he put out S7OO, and when it had gone he turned in his chair and said to the owner of the house: “Lend me a hundred, I’m going to Chicago.” He sent thejnoney back the next week, with a letter which read; “Much obliged for the money. Chicago is good enough for Canada Bill.”—[Phuadelphia limes.

THE CODE OF KENTUCKY.

Bixhop Smith on the Ancient Rule of a Life for a Life. ’ * “The code of Kentucky is peculiar in the manner of taking life. The ancient rule of a life for a life is recognized and to some extent put in practice. Among some nations where this rule was held it was the practice of the avenger to shoot down his victim without hint or warning, but a Kentuckian would scorn this. He announces his purpose, it is talked of by friends of both men that A *lll shoot Bon sight. There is no attempt at a shirking of the consequences! of the meeting, and though A should know almost to a certainty that friends of B would deal out swift and sure vengeance to him, he carries out his threat to the letter. 4 There is something of manliness about it, but oh! how cruel, how unforgiving and unchristian.” “Who supports the system?” “All classes, men of family, of position and of standing in the church, - when they sit on juries look at a case f brought before them entirely from the standpoint of their early training. The law is recognized only as a shield to protect the prisoner from the consequences of the law, and time and time again I have seen the verdict of justifiable homicide brought in in cases which by us of New England and the North would be considered cold-blood-ed murder. In e ery other way and on all other points these men will recognize the sanctity of the law—will fight for It—and the record of Kentucky statesmen Will show that they recognize the blessings of a lawful liberty as keenly as any people. But this unfortunate lesson does exist, and has existed for ajl the years within my memory. How it originated is hot so easy to determine. It may have come with the blood which left Virginia for the new State of Kentuchy. The other States of the Southwest have this same bent of thought to a' certain extent. But in Kentucky it is characterisffe, and stamped out there it would soon die out entirely. You have a very recent ease, about which It would not perhaps be proper for me to venture an opinion, but it illustrates the system, and if Buford is convicted

it would be a very wide departure from the established ruie or practice. Clergy and press seem alike powerless to meet this evil; or, rather, shall I say that these two elevated forces are bound in with it to a very large extent. I suppose that in time it will die out, but in tbe meantime how much of Unpunished crime will there be? How much of that which is a blot upon our civilization? The war may have had some effect upon it, but does not seem to have ha 1 any very strong curative effect. My own duties as Bishop of a State which was the center of so much active hostility compelled me to pass and repass the lines of both armies continually.’ The clergy of the State were divided, and for myself I left them very much to themselves in their conduct ofi worship. Some prayed for the President of the Con federate States and others for the President of the United States. I could not be so good a judge of the local surroundings as the clergy in the immediate charge of the parish, hence my deference to their opinion in the guidance of theiraction. For myself, my position was a fixed one. I did not know disunion except as a thing to be deprecated, and whenever I was called upon teg officiates .I have seen members of my congregation start as if they had been struck when the words were uttered, and the women especially, would look black and unutterable things; but the love ot the church was supreme, and never at any time was I subjected to the least show of disrespect or annoyance for my frank expression of views. Ido not know that it would have made much difference had such a repressive policy been attempted.”—[lnterview with Bishop Smith In N. Y. World.

Talleyrand swore allegiance thirteen times as follows: 1. To Clement XIII., on taking priest’s orders. 2. To Clement XVL,. on becoming Bishop of Autum. • 3. To Louis XVI., in 1879, at the assembling of the States general. 4. To the King and constitution, at the “federation” of the Champ de Mars. »5. To the Directory, in 1695. 6. To the same, on becoming Minister of Foreign Relations. 7. , To the three Consuls, Bonaparte, Bieyes and Ducos. 8. To Napoleon, as First Consul. .9. To Napoleon, as Emperor. 10. To Louis XVin., in 1814. 11. To the same at the Second Restoration in 1845. 12. To Charles X., in 1824. 13. To Louis PhiU’ppe, 1830. And none of them seemed to hurt him much.

A Swearing Statesman.