Saturday Evening Mail, Volume 7, Number 2, Terre Haute, Vigo County, 8 July 1876 — Page 1

Vol. 7.-^-No.

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THE MAIL

A PAPER FOR THE PKOPI.E.

SECOND EDITION.

Town-Talk.

A STORY TOLD TO THAT IM,USTHIOUS MARINB, T. T.

He was thirteen years old, be told T. T., and they called him Patsey Hardin, though that wasn't his real name—his real name was Charlie Ross—and he hadn't any father nor mother nor uncle nor aunt nor anybody except a brother, and his brother's name was Henry, and he was fifteen and know all kinds of things about geography and grammar and 'rithmetio and cipherin' and all that. As for himself, he hadn't gone to school much, only a little when he was a small kid, but his brother was in number five and as smart .as any of 'em, "now you bet." 'Who did he live with?' Well, he didn't live with any body in particular —that is he didn't jint now be used to sleep at the widow O'lveefe's, on Second street, most o' the time last winter, but in warm weather like this there was no use fooling away money for lodging: a fellow could hang up a 'most anywhere in summer time. And how did T. T. like the shine on that boot? and would he please pass up the other

Yo-s, he'd seen some prebty rough times since he struck Torre Haute, but nothing to what he had seen. Wouldn't T. T. call it pretty rough to go two days at a time without anything to eat, and be sent to the poor-house and treated like a dog, only worse? Well, that was what he'd seen. •Tell all about it?' Well, there wasn't much to tell, but if it'd be any satisfaction to any body, he'd tell what there was. *.

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You see, his father was a soldier and was shot in the war when he and Henry were little bits o'codgers, and his mothor moved to Vincennes because some -of her people lived there and she thought they might help her some, but they never did—'bad luck to 'em!' And then she had slaved outlier life over a wash-tub, when she could get washing to do, for he didn't knew how many years but it must have been as many as eight or ton and there'd been a many a night when he and Henry bad gone to bod hungry and his poor mother a-cryin' her eyes out in the dark 'cause she had no money to buy anything to oat and no p: ospect of any work to do and a many and a many a time they'd wakened up hours afterwards and found her still a-bendlng over them and a patting them on the shoulder and a-kissing of them, and still a-sobbing like hor poor heart would break —and wouldn't T. T. thiuk that pretty rough And a many and a many a time, in the dead o' winter when the grouud was covered with snow and he and Henry couldn't find blocks nor chips nor anything to burn, 'cause they wore all covered up, thoy'a com.i mighty near a-froezing to death, and what did he think of that

And that was the way his mother got her cough and when they wakened up that morning and found her out of her head with a burning fever, they were scared and that was a fact. But they •were awful hungry, too, and somcthiug had to be got, and he made thirty cants a-cle:» iing snow off of side-walks, and got potatoes enough with it to last three days, aud ha'd made more mouey but the

roow

went oil witharaln, and tbeie

didn't any moro come, and he couldn't strike any other kind of a Job to save 1JS' 11 *1

Ho didn't remember just how many days hi* mother was sick, but one morn* ing just befere day they heard her breathing mighty curious, and be and Henry laid their faces right close up against hers and held her hands and then she seemed to get easier and they went to sleep, but when they woke op again it was hght and—and—mother was dead. .. I

And then old Biles, that owned the house, be came down a-looking mighty1 black, to get his rent and he guessed Biles was scared, for lie went off without saying a word about it and pretty soon after that, a man oamo who aald he wanted to get a measure and when he went away, no body else came (ill away along In the afternoon.

Do?" Well, he cried most o' the time, and that w*» the troth If ever he told it.

And then two mrni lame w* a offln and put his mother Into it, am: carried 'toer off to the grave-yard, and he and

Henry rode en the wagon, and the m&n that drove was a real clover fellow aod

ve Ifeury thirty-five cents in money, him a red silk hand^erc*

hlef and a

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with a lantern and took them off to a boarding bouse and gave them a good sapper and part of his own bed in the stable to sleep In.

But the next day a man oame there while the driver was gone off to a funeral, and carried thom off to the poorhouse. Had T. T. ever been in a poorhouse? No? Well then he never wanted to be! For it was the awfulest plaoe, and they treated people there like brutes, and werse—especially boys.

Why, the first day, they hit him over the head with a stick of stove-wood because he couldn't get the fire to burn quick enough, and thrashed Henry for crying about it. He and Henry had wood to split, fires to build, water to carry, dishes to wash, and about a million more things to do they had to be out of bed before day light and up till every body else In the hguse had gone to sleep, and he guessed they got about two lickings a day, on an average, all the the time they were there, though they tried their very best to be good all the time.

At last, in the spring, they ran away —at night. They wandered around in the woods a good while and at last struck a railroad and walked on the track till they meta man carrying a lot of old umbrellas, who told them that the railroad wont to Terre Haute and that it was fttty miles there, and they concluded that would bea good place to go to, aud they came. 'Did they walk all tho way?' Oh, yes. It took four days, but they got along first rate and slept in a house evory night but one. ^.

What did they do here first?' 'Well, they worked in a brick yard a little while, that was too hard for Henry and made him sick, 'cause he never was right stout. lie got acquainted with a boy who was making slathers of money blacking boots aHd he bought his outfit of him for sixty cents, and went Into the business himself, and Henry went along with him and took care of the money.

Yes, he had a good many rows with the other boys, along at first, because they didn't like any more opposition, but they soon found he was pretty good on the knock, and quit fooling with him. After that he made plenty of mone3r and started Henry to school.

Ob, yes made enough to buy him his books, some decent clothes, and had paid his board without any trouble ever since and if he hadn't any bad luck hereafter—and he didn't seo how he could have—he intended to make a scbolar of Henry yet.

Why T. T. ought to seo Henry now He was just as swell looking a fellow as any of'em and he vas just as smart, if he was uny judge! 'Didn't they livo together?' Oh, no! you didn't catch Henry associating with any such ducks as he was. And as for anybody suspecting such a thing as their being brothers, it was simply absurd. Nobody had any such idsa, and he didn't intend they should ^iave. Why last summer when Henry was sick, he had gone to his boarding house and waited on him day and night aud told the landlady that he'd been hired to do it by a wealthy gentleman who had taken a fancy to Henry and intended to leave him all his money: and every Sunday morning now, he went up there and blacked Henry's boots for hiiu, sent by the same wealthy gentleman—ha, ha, ha! And T. T. would laugh his eyes out to see how well Henry carried it out—bow overbearing and contemptuous he was to tho dirty little boot black working for him —it was just as natural as life. X.j,

Why, Henry went to Sunday school and church every Sunday, and would T. T. beliove it? he actually sang in the choir! He'd seen him do it with Ids own eyes, sometimes when the church windows had been open and he'd looked in.

Why If T. T. were to see Henry coming along there now be'd uever dream of his being even acquainted with him, much less bis brother. He'd see a swell young fellow with his bead up walk by and never look that way. And of course it wouldn't do to hare it get out that they were brothers, or even acquainted it would ruin Henry's pros* pacta, and T.T. must pon bis honor never to p*a h.

But he'd been Indulging in a'moet too jnuoh chin music now, and must go —and—what! a dollar! Ob! ever so much obliged and—what? Point Henry out to him? Well he'd think ahopt U, but he must be off now—gc*4 d*y.

DKA*ATtC SlDqrsr*

SnitSK, 4—Natkmsl House omtiter. Enter, Policeman and T. T. PU. What kind of a looking boy

T. 71 Oh, a hiosi honest, good-look-ir.g little follow, about thirteen years of age, wears a but look! there he coapos

great big piece of navy idbsv* wliteh made him awful sick the next day. now! the boy wit'a the tut cap and the Bat that wasn't all tho driver dki for boot black's on tilt. when they got back home aud fotinJ Pot. What! the boy jttst Stopping l|»

BUes had tokened up the house imd front of that fruit stand? taken the key, aud they didn't kr/.wj T.T. The wm(! Who Is be? whore they werogoing to sleep or what ^Tho worst littb liar and thief to do, and it w»» getting dark and fee-1 in America! Seei—He'* w« toting his ginning to rain, that driver came a!. ngj chance cow to stesl a pocket full of

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oranges—there! Drop that! (to the boy who drops a handful of orange* and starts down the street "on the jump,")—Why that's Pat. Fllnn, hopeful son of old Flinn who keeps the "fence" In the east end.

T.T. (Gasping.) And isn't he an orphan and rol. Not much! He's been In the House of Reflige three times for stealing and will go to the penitentiary before he's a year older, sure! (T. T. totters—rahies—totters again— again rallies, and is helped into the hotel, by policeman, in a terrible state of exhaustion from which it is hardly probable that he ivill entirely recover short of a week.)

Husks and Nubbins.

No. 215.

$

THE CENTENNIAL FOURTH.

It was a great day but it Is over at last and probably everybody has heaved a sigh of relief. Of course we could not think of dispensing with our July celebrations but certainly they are the fussiest and least onjoyable occasions that were ever invented. It is idle to expatiate on their follies and their faults. This has been done so often and so forcibly that everyone is perfectly familiar with them. The incessant snap of the all-pervading fire cracker, the rush of rockets, the fizzle and bang bf powder in its many forms of ininature pyrotechnics, the banners and flags and streamers, the jam of crowds everywhere, the patient waiting that out-Jobs Job—all these and many other peculiarities of Fourth of July celebrations are familiar enough to us 11. When it is over we go home feeling tluit we have been abused and humbug.but before a year passes we offer ourselves willing sacrifices to be humtniyir and abused again. Is it patriotism or human nature which prompts us? Perhaps a little of both.

Still, we would not, have Independence Day forgotten or passed over in silence. We hope such a time may never come. We have conscientiously kept up the noise and fury for a hundred yoars let us keep it up as conscientiously for a hundred more. After all there is something in these celebrations which exerts a good influence on the people. For one thing there is a sort of universalism about them that is beneficial. There is too much exclusivoness in society—too much standing apart in a kind of touch-me-not spirit and living in cliques and classes. This isolation tends to blunt the sj'mpathy which everyone ought to feel for every other. The people need to be tumbled together occasionally, all classes promiscuously commingled. Such a contact helps them to understand and sympathize with each other better, tends to break down the partition walls and mako the nation mote homogeneous. What can do this so successfully as A Fourth of July celebration It is the one day of all the year that don't stand on ceremony. There is no style about it. It is everybody's day, from the bab}' in arms to the aged invalid tottering with one foot.in the grave. Men, women, children, of all ages and classes, from palace and hfit, from city and country, mingle together in the festivities of the hour. Good nature reigns supreme. What if the procession is an hour or two late? The patient multitude stands and sits and waits until the laggard moments pass and the brass band blazes into low. And then they sit and stand and wait until the procession has dragged its todious length along when they broke for the busses and streot cars with the universal exclamation, '*lt was perfectly splendid." What if the balloon which was advertised to ascend at three o'clock does sit, like a great bulbous thing that had grown up out of the ground, for two mortal hours longer, and the anxious crowd wait as if for it to slowly ripen in the sun—are they not amply repaid for all their patient waiting when, In the fullness of timo and of gas also, the supreme moment comes aud the airy palace soars as lightly *nd gracefully towards the sky as the rainbowcolored soap-bubble from tho boy's pipe, bearing to dizzy bights its cargo of daring souls? Yes, the spontaneous outburst of enthusiasm from the gaping crowd as they watch the splendid thing careering through the air above their heads, sufficiently attevts their satisfaction of the evc&t.

Moreover we ought to foster poblic holidays as a bounden duty. Heaven knows we have too few of tbem at best We are a nation of human beavers. We bardly think of anything but work. Never Pharao made his slaves toil harder than we toll from love of gain. From yt*.r in to

year

ont we are at oar shops

and offices with the regularity of clocks. We know that we need recreation bnt either we will not or don't know how to take it. The "glorions Fourth" drives us out, compels us to throw down our tools, lock up oar stores, take our wives and children and plunge headlong into the furious enthusiasm of the day. We could not escape it It we would. It is all around and abor» us. The vibrant air carries It Into the most sheltered and secluded nooks. It Is impossible to do business er think of business on the

TERRE HAUTE, IND., SATURDAY EVENING, JULY 8. 1876. Price Five Cent*.

Fourth of July. It is the nation's only holldsy snd insists on being observed. And whstever the cynics snd grumblers may say in disparagement of it the time-honored "Fourth" still has a strong hold on the sffections of the people and he Is but a poor patriot who would desire to wesken it. Rather let it be revered and oelebrated more and more with each passing year and as the nation goes onward towards its second centennial the spirit of patriotism and love of countfjr will widen and deepen and our national celebration will come to have a broader and deeper significance than it has In the past.

People and Things.

Washington bad big feet. Tilden has one sightless eye. Lawrence Barrett's real name is Larry Brannigan.

Ulysses Grant, Jr., looks like a Spruce young minister. Mr. Wheeler recently lost his wife snd has no children.

Most lecturers have stopped talking and gone to fishing, Back numbers of anii-Tiidon papers are now in demand.'

Where the gong sounds the loudest the supper is smallest. Mark Twain is out in favor of a land of plenty and plenty of land.

More costly than a rare Vase—a baseball pitcher at ?2,000 per year. Imagine John Morrissey as a Cabinet officer under a "Reform" administration. ... ,-v

A barking dog never bites, but he kills folks by keeping them awake o' nights.

John B. Gough will Blunder 130times on the platform next winter, at 9200 a Blunder.

Tilden loved and lost a Batavia girl, who pronounced him "too cold," and married another mat.

Young swell: "I should like to have my mustaehe dyed." Polite barber: "Certainly, did you bring it with you."

Doing business without advertising is a good deal like trying to borrow a Hag on the fourth ol July.—[Danbury News.

The Rev. Talmage says it would take five hundred watering-place fops to make one teaspoonful of calves-foot jelly.

No man ever yet forgot by trying to forget but he is on the highway to forgetfulness when he tries to remember. —[MissBraddon.

Dore for over a year studied human faces in the operating ward of a Paris hospital in order to draw the varying expressions of misery.

Jefl Davis succeeded in finding somebody to welcome him in Liverpool. On inquiry it was ascertained that the person was his brother-in-law.

Irascible Gent (to waiter)—"They say there's nothing like leather, don't they "Yes, sir." "Then it's a lie, for this steak is!" (Waiter evaporates.) i-*

Do Murska has married another piauist. She needs an accompanist at her private rehearsals, and finds there is but one way to enforce discipline.

It cost a German tourist $37,000far one night's lodging in Philapelphia". This looks extravagant, but ho took a room where tho doors opened at tho. hingas.

Colonel Ingcrsoli says that good times have got to be dug out of the ground. "Pope Bob" is infallible in some doctrines, and the foregoing is one of them.

According to Talmage, it is perfectly safo for a minister to leavo his citj' In tho Summer, the father of all naughtiness having gone ofi' to the seaside resorts.

An exchange informs yisitors to the Centennial that if they spend but five minutes in examining each article, it will take them only twenty-throe years to finish!

The Saturday Review wishes to abolish the entire modern paraphernalia of marriage festivities—wreaths, veils,wedding marches, breakfasts, presents, and bridal tours.

Apropos of nudo art at the oentsunlal: Boswell once asked Dr. Johnson If a certain classical picture was indecent. "No, sir," replied the doctor, "but your question is." *.u "Vasbe reconciled?" exclaimed the Dutchman "Mine Gott, he had to be!" This Is the New York Tribune's notion of what will bsppen to obstreperous Democratic papers.

Hank Small has been presented with $1,000 by the Utica Locomotive Company, which built engine No. 140, on which Hank sped from Ogden to San Francisco,» distance of over eight hundred miles.

On the Fourth of July, 1826, nx-l'nlted States Senator Truman Smith, of Connecticut, read the Declaration of Independence at a celebration in Litchfield, in that State. Last Tuesday—just fifty years afterward—he read it again at the same place. He was then in the thirty-fifth year of his age* he is now in the eighty-fifth. It is to be feared

that at the celebration In 1026—fifty years hence—the old gentleman will be debsrred the pleasure of reading the declaration a third time by engagements elsewhere.

A St. Joseph (Michigan) jailer forgot to search a prisoner's wooden leg, and in the morning found an empty cell with an assortment' of doors lying around loose in the building.

A shrewd knight of the scissors and needle in New York advertises himself as "The highest-priced tailor in the world." He evidently knowa how to catch the snobs and gudgeons.

A Catholic band of music was inadvertently assigned, in Troy, N. Y., to play in the Fourth of July procession at the head of a body of Orangemen, and of course a change had to be made.

At the celebration of the 150th anniversary of Kingston, Mass., the other day, they told of a man who lived in three centuries. It was Ebenezer Cobb. He was born in 1694 and died in 1801.

When Oglesby heard that Bob Ingeraoll was an atheist he roared out: "What! don't Ingersoll believe in a God? I should think he might if he can believe in Blaine after reading those letters."

The latest thing in the line "of professions in Boston is that of the submarine diver, who announces himself as "ready to make contracts for the recovery and delivery, in good order, of the bodies of drowned friends." .Again Bergh complains: "If a dog happens to act a little queer, the people immediately yell out, 'shoot the beasthe's got the hydrophobia!' but when a man gots to 'taking on,' his friends whisper, 'lead the poor fellow home, he's drunk!'"

They were talking of a death, when one man asked, "What were his last words?" "He didn't say anything," was the reply. "That's just like him," said the first man, with an approving nod. "There was no gas about him he was all business."

There is too much of this Centennial reading. When the fact is disclosed that George Washington had a street fight with a political opponent, and was knocked down by him just as a common man might have been, it is time to stop searching through the old records. 'J

A prayer meeting was held in James Foster's cell, Warren town, Mo., on the night before he was hanged. "Are you ready to die asked a clergyman at the conclusion of the exercises. "Guess I'll have to be ready in the morning, anyhow," he said, and winked at a bystander.

Rev. Tom Beecher announcing his stfmmer leave of absence: "And so, without a blusli, wo give notice of our vacation. No moro sermons, speeches, miscellany, conversations, schools, lessons, counsels, •warnings, funerals, lendIngs, givings, longings and prayings until September." s-

In Hartford an old man was converted to Christianity by this occurrence: As he was in church seeing his grandson baptized, and was wondering why, if the rite was acceptable to God, no visible sign was given, a dove flew in at tho window anc. alighted on one of the boy's shoulders.

Lowis Clark, the original of George Harris in "Uncle Tom's Cabin," is at Worcester, Mass. While at Washington, recently, he found ono of tho assistants of the Congressional Library,' a Mr. Chapman, who was hired by Ohio slavecatchers to pursue him, and who did capture a fugitive companion.

PRETTY OR NOT.

To be pretty is the great object of almost every living woman—even of Chose who have "a mission and who, if truth were told, dress themselves as becomingly as possihle, even while they lecture upon the Impropriety of doing so. Beautiful women spend a great d?Rl of thought upon their own charms, and homely women grow homelier through fretting because tbey are not handsome. Men, at least while they are young, are very like women in this respect though they hido their feelings better. There is one comfort to the homely ones, however After you come to know people very intimately, you do wSt* know whether they are pretty or not:' Their "ways" make an impression on vou,- bnt not their neses and ears, their eye# and mouths. In time, the soul expresses Itself to you, and it Is that which yon see.

A man who has been married twenty vears knows not what his wife looks like. He may declare that he does, and tell you that she is a bewitching little blonde, with soft blue eyes, long after she in fat and red, and forty, because the imago of his early love is in his heart, and he doesn't see her as she is to-dav, but as she was when he courted her. Or, being an indifferent husband, be may not know she Is the tine woman that other people think ber. You have known men who have married the plainest women, and think thom beauties and you know beauties who are quite thrown away on men who value a wife for ber success as a housewife.

As far as one's effect on atrangers is to be taken into consideration, beauty is valuable, and very valuable. So, If you have it, rejoice but, if you have it not, bo content. Take care of your heart, your soui, your mind, and your manner*, and you will make for yourself that beauty which will render you lovely to those who are nearest and dearest a

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Femini terns.

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Dresses appear to be growing longer and longer, and tighter and tighter. Our young ladies are taking to ligit gardening for their health, and are mostly engaged in planting croquet set?.

I do not wish anybody to do any-. thing naughty," says a clever woman, "but if they do I want to know all about it."

A young lady describing a bashful: young man at a party,said: "He looked so timid I feared he would jump through his necktie and run away."

A Louisiana wife tried to poison herself because her husband, in a prayer^ meeting had fervently said amen to the petition of a girl of whom she was jealous.

Grace Greenwood rode on a oowcatcher. Her impressions are summed up in the impressive remarks: "I shall never do that again."—[Rochester Democrat.

When a certain woman in town speaks of her "late husband" you must not conclude that she is a widow. Her husband is living, but he is never home until midnight.

You can't convince a woman by alignment,"says an experienced benedict, "byt can modify ber views for the time being, providing you can get bold of the boot-jack first."

ANew Orleans belle has eloped with a barber. Her mamma cries och hone! Her friends raz'er name from their visiting lists, and her father says he'll lather the fellow that carried her off.

A Cuban lady left by will $90,000 to be invested in lottery tickets. The proceeds of the prizes were to be devoted to the erection of a magnificent church. The Trustees purchased the tickets, tut the church will not be erected.

Anna Dickinson has written a new play in five acts, and each illustrates the fortunes and persecutions of a Jewess in a different country—England, France, Germany, Russia, and the United States. She is to play tho part of the Jewess.

The daughter of the Sheriff of Waupaca, Wisconsin, while playing croquet in the jail yard, noticed a prisoner attempt* ing to escape, and, nonchalantly lifting her mallet she hit him on the head, just as if he bad been her brother caught cheating, and stunned him till the guard came up and captured him.

The young queen of Greece, who had been told that the Pope sleeps on a bunch of straw, asked leave to see his bed room, with the usual frankness of Russian ladies. His holiness complied with her demand, and showed her a hard little bed to which he has been used since he was a military officer, according to his own words.

An exchange wants ladies to take off their hats in church but as long as half the ladies go to church for the purpose of displaying their hats it is hardly possible that the suggestion will be adopted —unless a glass case placed alongside the pulpit for their accommodation and the name of the owner is prominently affixed to each hat.—[Norristown Herald.

She was a stout party, very red in the fiice she feared she would miss tho train, and hurried she bore on her arm a sbawlpin one hand a heavy picnic basket, in tho other a bunch of peonies, and under her arm a dog—a poodle dog —and, when she sat down on the seat very hard, she declared to gracious that sho would "rather travel with fifteen children than ono dor." ,J'"J "7 «-vi

At tho Centennial,. tho Philadelphia ladies cry out, "Isn't it cunning?" New York ladies, "How superbly lovely Boston ladies, "Ah, how oxquawsite!" Louisville ladies, "Beautiful, fo'. shaugh!" Chicago ladies, "Oh, my—I 'f wished I owned tliatl" While tho gennine Yankee girls from the rural dis^ tricts exclaim, "Geo whimmlny, but ain't that 'ere a stusner, neow!"

FREEDOM OF BELIEF,

if' 'From Y«*tenl«y'• New York Herald.] How the ghosts will groan through the churchyards to-night how tho •pooks will hover malignantly over tho world bow the ghoul, with bis verdigris faco and mouldering eyes and furry lips, will blow harsh music from thtf human bones he has been picking how the spectre, the bogy and tire mat of the uncanny things that belong to the next world will stream about and flap cold, elammy hands against mortal faces! A judge has said that a certain Fay who calls spirite frem under the table with a, rap must take out a license as a juggler. Only fancy the tyranny of the thing.-' The long-haired and the bine umbrella-/ ed male and female beingrf who sit in the spirit circle and cry "Shame 1" when a sceptic sneers, will have an awful re-* venge. Judge Donobne, beware!

DIARY OF A PR0CRA8TINATOR„ Sunday—Day of rest of course nothing can be done. Monday—Being early?* in the week, don't be too precipitate in, beginning anything. Tuesday—Deter*, mine not to let the week go uy without achieving something brilliant. Wed-* nesday—Resolve on vigorous measures for to-morrow. Thursday—Matore yes* terday's deliberations. Friday—Rather too late in the week to d^ anything.. Saturday—Give yourself up to society^ and consult friends (who know ben) what is to bo done next.

BP®