Saturday Evening Mail, Volume 3, Number 3, Terre Haute, Vigo County, 20 July 1872 — Page 1
Vol. 3.—No "3
THE MAIL.
Office, 3 South 5th Street.
&. RAJNY DAYS.
[Written after seeing the painting of 'The
At early morn the clouds o'ercast the sky, Betokening rain At Its first light theshadows thickly lie
O'er heart and brain.
And all the day I hoped that genial showers. Of so much worth, Would gently fall, and bless thro* all Its hours,
The thirsty earth.
The clouds seemed almost empty of the boon, And the day long .1 ilas been like April's days—no^outof tune,
Now In full song.
3ut o'er my heart still hangs a gloomy pall I No grateful showers,— sunlight in tervenes, but overall
A cloud still lowers.
P. *. I Jow tear's sweet luxury has come like rain
tBrings
Each drop is blest,
jod to my weary heart and tired brain, tranquil rest. blessed rain O, holy, blessed tears! ft Your mission one— ', fx. elling clouds and grief, till there appears
The glorious sun ong as bloom sad memory's pallid flow-
Along life's ways,
fio iing will come to me some shadowed I Murs—
Who
IMIf#5
3
Bome rainy days.
T)jtEcomes a time when no more rain will Ull Eac ('aids,
Each day sereneno tears —external light o'er all The peaceful scene. J^iljtfSth. [Kathie.
THE RAINY DA Y.
[Bclo* we print Longfellow's exquisite little gem,"The Rainy Day," which suggested to Mr. Freeman, the artist, the creation of the painting now on exhibition at the Central Bookstore.) The day Is dark and cold and dreary It rtUnvaiul the wind Is never weary: The vine clings to the mouldering wall, Bat it very uust the dead leaves fall,
AnJtha day is dark and dreary. 1 My llieiscold, and dark, and dreary It rams Mid the wind is never weary My thorns still cling to the mouldering pint, But tic hopes of youth fal 1 thick in the blast,
Aqd the days are dark and dreary. •.
Be Htlll, stu)heart! and cease repining Behind the clouds is the sun still shining Thy fate Isthe common fate of all, Into cucli lite some ralu must fall, 8ome days must be dark and dreary.
Town-Talk,
1IF.MVN WItO WHISTLES.
As ft supplement to Victor Hugo's story of
"Tho
Man Who laughs,"
somebody ought to write "The Man Who Whistles,'' T. T. doesn't want to be rognrdod man inveterate grumbler, a chronic BcotJ, or anything unpretty. But bis soul is vexed, his ear pained, his temper fractured, his peace of mind disturbed, nndhl3 usefulness impaired by The Man
Whistles. His name
is legion. Ho is of all ages, sizes, nationalities and creeds, lie is everywhere. And
he
nover "lets up." He
blows his h«tfful whistle in your parlor, your study, your office, or wherever he chances
to
cotne. Possibly he
doesn't know
that
he Is a nuisance he
may bo guiltless of deliberate purpose to annoy uiay tavp an idea that the infernal noise which he produces is pleasant—a musical treat. If so, let him be undeeolvixl iet him learn that he has no more right to start his whistle in your quitters, than he would have to boat a gong
0r
agitate a cow
bell. These remarks
were
of my office, and if
men to
suggested
by an incident thti happened this morning. A venerable gentleman was in his office writing 1
lotter
to a lady
friend who has just lo*i her husband and son by shipwreck, while thus engaged, with heavy he^
an(j
tearful
eyes, a neighber~a m^ber
cf
one of
the "learned professions*stepped in whistling, "Ii
1
C*se to Love."
The old man tried not to hear the odious noise, and, »ft" bri^ salutation, continued his writing. tune was •whistled through, three orfOUr times, and then, in a loader, higher key, came "Marching Down Broadway followed by "Lulu is our D*rling Pri^n ««c»pt. Jinks," "Old Black Joo" ay "Write Me a Letter from Home." a.11 this timo tho old gentleman v)een
try.
ing his best to endure the mi lotion, but his righteous indignation finally mastered him. A» tijj "apectable bore glided from "Write Me a Letur from Houie" into the #ot«a
0j Hear
Me, Norma," the writer dropped his pen ande*cl*ln»ed, "Hear me vou
Ill-mannered
Bc*inp, cel
00t
eTer
cotne into
it and whistle another note, nj
pitch
wU my
you down
The
musician departed. ^whistlers heed the obvious m0** actual incident.
ORTJItT OfcO°*Y-
The past has been soUmn week for T. T. Since J* •»«Piciou« which ushered into existence,
morn mudane
tali
1118
never
known a period of gloom so dense and dolorous. Not that any dire calamity has come upon him or his house. Far from It. He has prospered "in basket and in store." But he is a man of sympathy—^a man whose heart leels the sorrows of his lriends as if they were kernel, his own. And be lives in a Democratic neighborhood. All his neighbors, for a square or more, on every side, are Democrats—old-fash-ioned, honest, Bourbon Democrats, fondly cherishing the faith of their fathers, holding firmly to the resolu
tions of D6, and religiously cleaving to
ante-bellum principles as enunciated by
and to see them plunged in woe and
despondency appeals to T. Ts tender-
est sympathies. It scarcely need be said that the source and cause of their grief is the startling political exigency in which they find themselves since the order come from Baltimore, via Cincinnati and Indianapolis, for them to "turn their backs upon the past," to contemn all that they have hitherto held to be orthordox and lovable In politics, to Indorse and adopt all that they have been taught to hate and denounce and to help eleot to the Presidency the man who, for more than thirty years, was their unrelenting enemy—the man who reviled, persecuted, and said all manner of evil against thom. When the order was first passed along the lines, the response was a sullen murmur Indicative of a rebellious spirit. For a day or two this feeling waxed stronger, and the murmur grew into an angry roar of bold rebellion. Then there fell on the ears of the malcontents the ominous and awful sound of the party whip,— the spiteful snap of the lash of party discipline. The effect was magical. Hushed was the rebelious roar. Anger gave place to grief. A settled melancholy, intensely pitiful to behold, possessed the souls of the Bourbon band. The gleam of anger in their earnest eyes died out, and the fire of revenge was quenched in tears. In all the air a solemn stillness reigned. Had the angel ol death smitten every household, the dreary surroundings of T. T. could not have been more gloomy. Of eourse he went forth as a minister of consultation. He went from house to house essaying to mitigate the pangs of poignant grief. He told the mourners that the principles which they were ordered to bury out of sight belonged to the "dead past that, in the language of "Rip," they were "better mit out 'em that Horace Greeley was a great and good man, and, though he had always been their enemy, yet it was a christian duty to "love your enemies," to "bless them that persecute you" and to vote for him who uses you spitelully. But this well meant eftort had little effect what little influence it exerted was in the wrong direction. Some wept more bitterly than beforev Others swore in their mournful wrath that tbey would vote for "old Grant" sooner than vote for Horace Greeloy. All remained hopeless, Inconsolable sitting apart from their tellow men in the shadow of their life's great affliction, letting the wavos of gigantic calamity sweep over their sorrowing souls. And thus they still remain. If occasionally they mingle with the gay, unfeeling world, their countenances wear an air of cheerfulness bravely assumed for the moment, to be thrown ofl in their homes and places of business as a gay reveler doffs his false-lace when he leaves a bal masque. T. T. cannot endure such excessive demands upon his sympathy.He has advertised his house "for rentmeans to get a tenement near the cemetery, and, to counteract so tor as possible the solemnising scattered miia influences that have wrought on him found within.
0, o,
funeral sermons and Martyr*.
Fox's Book of
Then, heaven help us all to bear each
Husks and Nubbins.
I am'not fond of beginnings. They are the husk which it 'seems you must pick through in order to get at the
you
Calhoun, Buchanan and Taney. They imperfect grains around the base and are good neighbors, and kind friends
a
nings. The author seems to have exhausted himself in producing husk, and when he has enough of that made to cover a whole bushel of ears, he finds that he has no material left to make the ears of.
I like those beginnings best which are slight and easily got through those husks which spilt open at the ends of unusually thrifty ears, disclosing the golden treasure to the eye of the passer-by—like the pantaloons of a robust urchin which have hard work to contain him. It seems necessary to have a beginning. You cannot plunge at once into the medias res with propriety, oven though it is Horace who bids you do so. You cannot lay your heart bare to a stranger. It would be rude and prolane. You must show him the husk first. Little by little he must approach the sacred place removing first the rough, weather beaten exterior. Then a smoother and softer fold successively until at last your very heart is disclosed to his eye. Then, Indeed, you have done with the husk. It Is useless and thrown away, and you wonder almost why you did not tear it off at one grasp. But you could not, and you cannot. It is nature that forbids it, and nature is inexorable and infallible.
And so it seems, he who would be an author must come to his readers first with the husk of a beginning. It he brings them a handful of corn, all full and perfect grains, and flings it before them, his profusion offends them. They think he is trying to show how rich he is—that he is glorying in his riches. He seems to say, "Here, see what grain I have. There is no husk on my corn. It grows all to kernel." But his readers do not like the kernel. It is unnatural. They will have some husk too. If a book scintillates brilliancy from every page, and every line, that book is too good. It is so good that it wearies—like the religion of some very perfect christians. The flower looks most beautiful peeping out half-hidden from among the leaves the gem shines brightest from a dusky ground-work, and the stars are not seen in the garish light of mid-day.
The best author is he who, with exquisite tact and delicacy, puts just enough husk about his earsjust enough leaves In his bauquet, just enough dark ground beneath bis brilliants. Then is the ingenuity which arranged, admired as much as the power which created, and bis care not to offend by extravagant prodigality or superflous adornment wins the hearts of his readers and makes them his friends. And what more need an author wish than that his readers be his friends
Is this a beginning? Is this husk? Like enough it is. Would I could promise the reader of a certainty that the grain will come by-and-by. But what If It chance to be all husk and not even the little "nubbin," with Its unmeet length of sapless cob, and fewimperfect grains, be
other up To lead each other er life gas-lights and the sea of upturned rugged ways, to shield the aching head
life so bright, but casts a shadow on hjm hack rather, sympathize with some weary one. Perhaps the very diffidence and speak kind words of jest thy lips shall speak, may faP -"h
anguish on some wounded heari ^tve
If heaven bath led thee safely to the
calmly tread above the clouds, scorn
net the weary ones within the Tail^ Bid them look up and gently urg« otlier them on, remembering th^u hast other depths to tread^_^__^^_
A Tennteee man killed a rattlesnake the other day which he had been hunting for sixteen years.
TERRE-HAUTE, SATURDAY EVENING, JULY 20,1872.
Not that you always find a
kernel it may all be husk, or nearly like those deceptive ears ol corn you sometimes find, whose immense display of husk leads you to suppose that there is an extraordinary
ear within, but which, if you open, you take layer after layer off and when
through it all find at last only
a 8ickly
cob, with four or five
profusion
0f Biik.
gteat| 0f
corn#
jt
As if the husk in-
protecting, had smothered the
a so
sometimes with begin-
Oh, then the author
11 ran onlv best that his readers will think
he will yet find nothing worse to condemn than the judgment which mistook empty husks for something else.
But the speaker has made bis bow to the public, a stiff and akward one it may be, but still a bow, and the speech must be forthcoming. What if he have no speech Then he should not have bowed. True, but If In the stillness of his own chamber thoughts crowd Into his mind which clamored
[Fer the Saturday Evening MaII.] "HELPS OVER HARD PLACES: Yes, we all need them, even the surest fleet, will sometimes go astray. The bravest heart will sometimes yield to doubts. The strongest form must feel a firm support. The brightest sun but casts a darker shade. crowd into 1us mina wmcn ciaiuumu
utteran08| but whlch the gleam ol
faoefl gcare
fTOtu^lm, as
from storm and sun, and whisper hunter frightens the timid hare, words of c©urage to the fainting heart, congregation upbraid him bePerchance the »y which makes thy
causeQf
his weakness? Or will they
encoaragement
Will they not indeed
m0re
patience with him than
the gweuing
mountain heights, think kindly of the vln.giori0ualy before them and shakes plodders on the slopea. If thou dost
hU| head wlth
guperiority
orator who struts
as great assumption of
as if he were Jupiter him-
«-uhin the vail. but is in fact only a manikin! But it is enough to have made a be
ginning, and il haply I have made beginning cmough, it is time to stop. I go therefore to see what I can find to put in this husk, and if I find nothing I will not eome back to tell my readers
so, for they shall know it without. And I am satisfied that tbey will esteem even a bad beginning better than a bad continuation, and if, as the old adage has it, too much of a good thing is good for nothing. I am sure they will agree with me that the least of a bad thing Is the best.
People and Things*
"Things not generally known,"— Poor people. 7 a Old John Harper, the owner of Longfallow, doesn't speak good English,
Jay Cooke is said to have set up, financially, no less than thirteen clergymen.
Don Piatt says "When Stokes met Fisk two cowards came in contact, and from sheer fright went to shooting. Stokes had a little start. That is all."
Olive Logan devotes herself in her last book to the pleasant task of proving that Wirt Sikes is really a good man. She has abundant scope for her imagination in this work.
Governor Brown's fondness for fruit will be the death of him yet. Not long ago he seriously injured his health by indulgence in buttered watermelon, and now he has narrowly escaped the dangers of the deadly cherry.
General Joseph Lane writes to a friend from his ranch in Oregon that he Is robust and healthy, although over seventy years of age and, that his children, grandchildren and great-grand-children are all well and doing well.
A flighty Michigander claims to have invented a telegraphic railway, by m6ans of which persons and parcels aggregating fifteen hundred pounds weight can be transmitted in a car suspended from a telegraph wire at the rate of a mile a minute.
A citizen of Newark. N. J., resolving to be Independent of icy mountains and seashore, and have a breeze at home, has rigged up over his bed a large revolving fan-wheel, covered with muslin, which is kept in motion through the stilly hours by clock-work.
Vanderbllt is described as having an iron frame and a marvelous faculty for having his work done by others. The iron frame may be exclusively Vanderblltlan. but there are few fellows who haven't the faculty of casting their work on other people, or letting it alone.
Instead of dying, as one would suppose he ought to have done years ago, the venerable Solon Robinson, formerly agricultural editor of the Tribune, has been divorced from his old wife, and married a new and younger one down in Florida, where he now has his his home.
There is a paragraph traveling the rounds of the papers which seems to meet with great favor. It is as follows:
A man is what his wife makes him." By the specimens of men we meet every day, we should Imagine that the wives wouldn't be very proud of their handiwork. L-"*
The London papers say that Mr. Joseph K. Emmett, the American actor who has made a reputation in Hans Breitmann parts, has arrived in London, and is having his best play rewritten by a popular dramatist. 'Fritz" does not appear to be good enough for the Londoners. ,,.
Ilenry Ward Beecher says his early life in the West was rough—a large room, two slabs for seats, and these not fall—tallow candles, each man bringing one: but he was quite as happy then as now. He professes great love for the Hoosler Christains, and if God should send him back to that humble kind of labor, ho would not cry.
Mr. Delane, managing editor of the London Times, said recently: "I can find any number of men to write for me, but very seldom one man of common sense." To write for a paper is ona thing to edit it another. Historians, poets, essayists write well but papers need men who can select, alter, combine, and fashion matter to suit an audience 00mposed of varied elements.
A Hannibal (Missouri) man, who lately lost bis pocket-book with ?90 in it, has to console himself with this anoaymous note from the finder: "I am poor man, and my health is poor, and It seems to me that you lost that money
I send you back four
dollars and the^BSpnflfrW® rich and profess to be a Christian I belong to the same family. If the Lord bless me, I will repay you if I can if not, you must look to the Lord for it*
The story Is told of Ben Butler's earlier days that a Yankee obtained his legal opinion how to recover the value of a ham, which a neighbor's dog came along and ate. He was advised to prosecute and recover for damages. "But the dog was your'n," said the sharp Yankee. Butler opened his eyes a little, asked him what the ham was worth, was told five dollars, paid the money, and then demanded a ten-dol-lar fee of the astonished naijvo for legal advice. •it
:1
Femini terns.
Betsy Brown Is a candidate for Senator in South CaroUna. 7 I, The number of lady boo'k-keepers in this city is rapidly increasing.
Maternal insensibility is responsible for the annual "farming" out of nearly 22,000 babies in Paris.
Modern young ladies are not the daughters of Shem and Ham but the daughters of Hem and Sham.
At a single hotel at Milwaukee are four heiresses with prospective fortunes ranging from |100,000 to 1,000,000.
Female education seems to be receiving more'attention and making more head-way In Europe than In this country. I' ,*,7
t?
Josephine Mansfield took t&e stand and was snow-white.—[New York telegram.] That is to say, she was like a "whited sepulchre."
It Is said a lady in Albert Lee, Minn., enjoys her afternoon ride in as fine a buggy as rolls the streets, which together with the horse and harness, were earned by her own hand setting type in the Freeport County Standard.
Despite the intolerance of the London Peace Society (which believes peace Includes woman's silence), Justin McCarthy says that Julia Ward Howe has preached of late on Sunday, always to delighted audiences.
The livery men say they dislike to hire a horse and bifggy to ladies. They say that they forget to water the animal entrusted to their care. There may not be much poetry in this statement, but there is considerable truth.
A correspondent says that Tennie C. Clafilns' beauty and freshness are rapidly fading, and that she will soon look as old as her sister Vic. The cares of a regiment are too much for her. "Uneasy lies the head that wears a shako."
Mrs. Neely of Coventry ville, Schuylkill county, a day or two ago, while sweeping the house found a box of powder, and thinking It was useless, threw it into the fire. It was blasting powder. The house will bebullt after the in a
An amorous Detrolter tried to kiss an unwilling fair one, when she grew angry and bit his cheek. The wound hassince festered and swollen, until the surgeon has decided to burn the flesh with caustic, and treat it as if it had been the bite of a mad dog
The startling statement has just been made in a New Yoik court that the young ladies' seminaries in that city are actually flooded with books and papers of the most indecent character, surreptitiously introduced sometimes hidden in a boquet of flowers, sometimes in parcels of nuts and candy.
As the Knights Templar were parading in Boston the other day, a woman rushed into the street without any bonnet, and with little clothing on, and
ran
into the midst of the band, saying, "I'm the daughter of the regiment." She was a woman from Branford, who came to town and got drunk. ifrrs. Mary Gray, ol Greenup county, Is the oldest lady in Kentucky. She has entered her 114th year, and is still in apparent vigorous health. Joseph Gray, her youngest son, la seventy years old. She has a daughter-in-law,
widow
of one of her sons, who is over
eighty years old. Her grand-children and great grand-children are counted by the score.
Dr. Mary Walker has another grief. The Commissioner of Patents won't let her place her old military clothes in the Patent Museum at Washington, alongside the garments of Washington and Lincoln. She had labeled them "worn by Mrs. Dr. Mary Walker dnring he a he so of he Commissioner on the woman question has lost this valuable historical relic to posterity. *'tr "!J\ J""4
The Decatur(Ill.)Magnet says: "Alias Marie Vbn Eisner, whose parents~live in this city, has had and accepted an invitation to visit tne President's mansion, in the course of two weeks, to assist in a grand soiree or musical enter tainment. Marie was there once before two years ago, and her sweet voice on that occasion, charmed all who beard her. She received many valuable presents and will undoubtedly receive many more. Miss Von Eisner will be remembered as having given a concert at Dowling Hall some three years since.
At the Jubilee, In 1869, there were but three ladles attending as reporters from the dally papers—one of them Miss Kate Field. This year fourteen of the prominnt papers, cast and west, sent ladies to write the jubilee up (or down, as tbey chose) as regular correspond, ents. Beside these there were hosts of transient visitors who furnished to favorite papers their opinions on Mr. Gil mo re's grand enterprise. omen, In spite of their fearlul state of subjection, are finding their way pretty rapidly Into the broad field of usefulness offered by journalism.
Price Five Cents.
Society and Fashion
The woman question—"what had she
With Fisk and Helmbold away Long Branch is duller. White flannel suits are in fashion among Beau Brummels at the seaside.
The Spring style for the Sandwich Islander is announced. It is a red string about the left leg just above the knee.
Flora McFllmsey's new trunk is called the "cottage." Its namo suggests its size. It is larger than the wellknown "Saratoga.
Japanese girls are studying dress-
1
making in Paris, and will probably make a considerable bustle on their re- I turn to their native country.
Bathing is just about commencing at the Branch, Newport and Cape May. Heretofore the ladies have been rather timid, and the water has been awfully cold. "7
To be a swell at the seaside, th6 male should dress in a suit of white flannel, wear a straw hat with blue ribbon band and insert around bit of window glass in the right eye.
The Beau Brummels now carry their watches in their coat pockets, the chain and lock fastened in the topmost but-ton-hole and conspicuously dangling across the breast.
The Boston Post says: "Georgia 5 girls use none but religious papers for Sunday bustles." This is because they know that some religious papers are fit for nothing else.
Flora Fllmsey has commenced driving her poney phwton at the Branch, which this year, has white silk canopies to protect her dainty little head from the rays of the sun.
Nurse maids are now required by fashionable American mothers to wear the jaunty French cap, the badge of servitude against which the bonnie lassies o'Dundee rebelled, t.
Just one hundred years ago Newport had a greater foreign and domestic trade than New York. Now Newport only affords an arena for the displny of New York's wealth and fashion.
A white pique costume, Dolly Varden hat, gauntlett gloves and huge whlto sunshade are said to be the requisite outfit tor morning promenade among fashionable young ladies at the seaside.
It is said that many brilliant sand 1 diamonds have already been found this season on the Cape May beach. Ladies have annually searched for these glittering things since the land- 7 ing of Columbus.
Montreal young ladies do not wear watteaus or polonaises or long trains, and ten yards will make a dress in that savage land. It is hard to make them believe that it takes 170 yards to make a dress elsewhere.
There is a large and distinguished party of English tourists at Cape May, including a member of parliament and a captain in the Guards. They are very exclusive and high-toned, although appearing to enjoy themselvrH amazingly.
1
Ultra-tashionable women at the seaside hotels have a habit every afternoon of congregating on tho pizza and mentally pricing and depreciating each other's toilettes to their hearts content. Occasionally tbey express their opinion verbally.
The fashionable shoo for sumnur promenaders is the buttoned boot of French kid, cut about three-quarters high, with toes almost square, and comfortable heels only an inch high. Tbey are made simple and plain, without ornamental stitching, depending for beauty on their symmetrical shape and fine material.
A lady's diary—who always wears high necked dresses—contains this item:—At last night's party, there were some two or three women loo much dccottetle, and when the gentlemen bent over to speak to them, tbey used their fans to hide their necks, True modesty ought not to be aware of exposure, and this effort at concealment excites a man's imagination more than simple exposure.
We envy neither the man or woman! who cannot speak to a fellow creature| out of thefr own circle, nor to anybody| without the formality of an lntroduc-| tion. There Is no computing tho| amount of profit as well as pleasure! such persons lose by hedging themselves in with this stupid fence of fastidiousness. We have always found more of this feeling among persons who were touchy on their social position than among those self-respecting persons who thought nothing about it 4 A great deal of Intelligence Is floating! around the world without being label-: ed, and those men or women who haves the good sense to recognize this fact and act upon it, not only are educating themselves but conferring that pleasure which we are all bound by the common ties of humanity to exebango with each other.«