St. Joseph County Independent, Volume 20, Number 8, Walkerton, St. Joseph County, 8 September 1894 — Page 2

LOVE IN MASQUERADE. I dreamed that lo\e came knocking T° ar door ore wint r night. While the spec, er trees wo erocking In a blast of savage blight. Oh^ 1 perish!” poor Love ph aded; Ope the door, for love's dear sak* w But although you heard and heeded’ bull no angler would you make! hot cne word of tweet replying Would your haughty lips have said, *-ven ** I ove land lain there dying, Even if Lot e had lain there dead! Then I dreamed that Love o'er-ruled you • * or m t he tenderest voice he cried, ’ hay, dear lady, I sadly fooled you bince I am not Love, but Pride.” yon straightway oped you pcrtals. With a merry and welcome nod ■lotbat wiliest of immortals, T° that masquerading god. Ah, you oped you’ - portals lightly, hot for Love’s, but Pride’s dear sake: xst, O lady, if 1 dreamed rightly, —o e acou tau eht you your mistake! •me century. love on a wall. The little back-yard presented a novel appearance. The frost was on the ground, and the one skeleton tree in the co-ner extended its leafess branches like gaunt arms in various directions. A wooden post was stuck in the center of the gravel square, its pur- ! p o s e vague; at a few yards distant stood a man practicing at broadsword exercise. Sergeant-Major Boyne, pausing from his exertions, addressed some >ne sitting pn the walltQ Uis right.

watch your”^ The Sergeant continued his evolutions. “Cne—two—-three—four: right! One—two— three—f. ur; left!” The girl clapped her hands. The Sergeant repeated the performance. “How Jolly you look, Cousin Jack:” Mollie cried, as the cuts and thrusts whistled through the air. “Bo I?” the Sergeant queried, solemnly regarding the post in the middle of the ground. “You know that you look nice,” she said severely. ‘-Don’t pretent.” He returned the weapon to its sheath and looked at the girl critically. “iou know that you look nice, Cousin Mollie,” he said, with mock severity. "Don’t pretend. You are the prettiest girl in Linbridge. All the men at the barracks say that of you. ” “Do they?” she cried with a gasp. “1 am so glad.” “Glad? Silly girl! What is their opinion worth?” “As much as yours, 1 suppose,” she answered. “Oh, of course.” She leaned against the wall and refastened a buckle, She bit her lip ; and tapped the red bricks with her 1 heels. ‘“ergeant Travers came off worsted among the men the other night, I heard.” “The odds were all against the one, as usual,” she said. “Your barrack jokes are seldom funny.” He laughed.

“Why do you care for him, Mol“1 don’ “All right, Mollie,” he said in a tone that ind ented “all wrong.” “It’s getting late,” she remarked. ‘•They are setting the tea tray.” “ hall I help you down?” Her toes were on a level with his chest as he fronted her. She carefully scrutinized the height from the ground. “No, thank you.” “Oh, all right!” he responded, with the same dubious reflection. J-he heard his spurs c ick over the I frosty ground. She watched the patch of scarlet merge intothegioom and reappear in the lighted room of the house. Then the tears trickled down her cold check and froze there. ' A boy was spinning a top in the next garden. She leaned toward him. “Little boy,” she whispered, “give ine a push. ” The little boy, mounting an inverted bucket, “pushed” and heard a muffled thud on the other side of the wall. > | Every girl in the little garrison town who possessed an invitation to the non-commissioned officers’ ball * was preparing for the evening’s fes- ' । tivity. Mollie Henderson piroutted round ; the small limit of her chamber, a gauzy being in white. The circum- 1 _6.crli ed mirror Had been tilled. up and 1 tilted down, only a quarter m form being visioned at one time. ' t The edge of her skirt and white ; batin slippers we.e undergoing reilec- i tion when her youngest brother shouted through the keyhole,— “You’ll do, Mollie! You’ll beat Georg.na Webb hollow!” “Oh, Bobby, darling, do you think j so?” she cried, opening the door. “Positive. Here are two loxes. ■ Guess one’s from the Sergeant. ” ; Each box contained a spray of flowers. She held the red roses admiringly. “Dear Mollie, please wear my flowers,” was pencilled on a sheet of paper bearing the name of Sergeant Travers. The lilies of the valley i were accompanied by a scrap of paper | “From Jack.” “Which shall I wear, Bobby?’ she a^ked excitedly, laying the roses and the lilies together against her bodice. “Both,” the boy replied promptly. “Oh, I can’t. T think —I think the red looks better on the white. The lilies are a trifle insipid, and yet —oh, 1 must wear the roses; the red looks lovely!” . She turned from her brother s inspection with the roses clustered at her breast , “Stunning! Now stick the lilies in your hair.” “But they would look awful, Bobby.” . T . “What’s the odds? Cousin Jack might feel hipped if you don’t stick ’em somewhere.”

“Don't be so silly! The men hava nothing to do with the flowers.” She gathered her gloves and fan to. gether and hastened out of Bobby's sight 7 “Well,” soliloquized the juvenile man, “I guess I’ll keep my money in my pocket before I am soft enough to ; waste it on the girls.” “Did you receive the lilies?” Sergeant Major Boyne asked, while he and his partner stood aside from the dancers for a moment “Yes; thank you very much!” “You are not wearing them!” “These roses arrived at the same time, I—l thought their color was such a pretty contrast for my gown.” “It is very pretty.” “Are you annoyed, Cousin Jack?” “Not at aIL Shall we finish this waltz?” ‘ ‘Ye-es. ” Later on Travers claimed Mollie for a dance. “How good of you to wear my flowers,” he murmured. Many of the n en lounging about the room envied the little Sergeant as he passed with his partner. Her i face was flushed. Her dark eyes shone brilliantly. “1 am tired,” Mollie said suddenly. They went to the end of the room where a portion was screened off. He took her fan, wafs>*-i**^hei while they talked. r- 1

“Suppose the Colonel refused his ' consent?” “Well, we could run away and get married." “You daren’t” “Oh, yes, 1 dare, sweet little Mollie,” he whispered. “I dare do something for you.” i “That’s very brave of you. Will you fetch me an ice?” The smile on Mollie’s lips faded as . Travers disappeared round the screen. She closed her eyes wearily. “Mollie!” The Sergeant-Major was bending over her. •‘I have come to say good-night, Mollie. One of the men who is down with the fever has sent for me.” “But you needn’t go?” “I must; he is dying.” ■ As he leaned over the chair his hand lightly touched her hair. One :of the roses had fallen from her breast and lay upon the folds of her gown. “May 1 have this?” he asked, taking it up gently. “If you like. ” The freshness had gone from her voice. “But the other ' man gave it to me, Jack.” •Never mind; you have worn it” I He passed out of her sight as i Travers came into it bearing the ice. “Take it away,” she said to him petulantly; “I don’t want it ” * •* * * * * Sergeant-Major Boyne was down with the fever. His comrades talked seriously together. Some of the men hung round the hospital to which he had been removed and begged constantly for the latest bulletin.

Near the group of soldiers stood 1 Mollie Henderson. Every day she gathered news of her cousin from their fragmentary conversation. “He’s mortal bad,” remarked one. “Ay. Singing fast I heard. ” “He’s sticking to his colors to the last,” spoke another. “They say he’s calling out her name often.” “And she don’t care a rap for him.” “She ain’t good enough for our Sergeant-Major,” they murmured to- l gether. “P’raps she’ll be sorry, when—” Some one pushed through the group. Each man fellaside as Mollie. , her face white and strained, passed jby them and obtained admittance 1 I into the hospital. i Presently one of them looked up i at the Sergeant-Ma or’s window. “Let’s hope she’ll be in time, mates,” he said huskily. * * * * * * The Sergeant-Major was convales- ‘ cent. 1 In the little backyard he practised < broadsword exercise in the presence of Mollie Henderson. “One—two — three — four; right! I One—two—three—four; left!” i i The girl sitting on the wall called 1 out to him — “That will do. Come here and rest a minute.” “You must be obeyed, Cousin Mollie,” he said, gliding one hand into her mull.” . . u swmtot Tbo^-ftweers inside the ' muiT. She counted the banches of the skeleton tree; be reckoned up the notches in the wooden post. “Cousin Mollie?” “Cousin Jack?” i ‘ Don’t you think we might begin <1 the new year—■” ’ I The two little dangling feet moved ’ restlessly against the wall; the hand 5 within "the Sergeant-Major’s tight- t : ened its clasp. He looked up at the t face above his own. I s “Mollie! Mollie!” he cried softly, i “may I hoist my colors in the new ; year?” , “Yes, Jack, yes.” The boy in the next yard looked up ' from spinning his top and remarked, , upon the sudden disappearance of । । ' Mollie into the Sergeant-Major’s arms, — i “I thought she wouldn’t want shoving off the wall this time.”— Waverly Magazine. Bicycle riders in Southland, Australia, are required to dismount twenty-two yards from an approaching horse and draw their wheels past. In Chatanooga a man 76 years old ' kissed the hand of a young lady by way of compliment, and she has sued him for breach of promise. ; There are clubs of girls in Sydney, : the object of which is to attend the theater without male escort.

^PERISH IN FLAM Hundreds Lose Their LivJ Forest Ares. HEDGED IN BY EJ Nineteen Towns in Three Ss i Wiped Out. r j / i l ictlm* Drop in the Street*, or Fb Woods Only to Die by Suffoc» he Flame—Tri ins Run Over Durnlngf Trembling Trestles, and Warping BL Not a Vestige of Hinckley Rsjfi —Hand of Charity Quickly at Worm Hindered by Broken Communicrtloq The forest fires in Mindes and Wisconsin are something terr a widj district has been fire that came a'most as suSML 3 a cyclone, a dozen or mor^^^U,” 1 town ■ have been destroyU^^

■ The details of the calamitya^mp^; appalling and the story o e lister ■ told la the dispatches is alrndbith- I i out precedent in the record ’rilling and horrible incidents. ' sea ^i- | tion to t! o loss of life and tD Mmetion of homes and establishir g senting business activity, wi. Ks ! of valuable timber have bee o ßd . and the 1 sses will bTel, Bj j i by millions. The story of t£ort flight and death or narrowiiopjKof < thousands of people in the firwept j district in Minnesota and VJ«isin I makes a lurid aud thrilling mjjlive. ; The fury of a forest fire in a .Jfeea- , sonisnot to le stayed by i^'g ingenuity. In the old prairie fl J jaeasuns could be taken to tarn tl Jae of destruction, but before the fie.-« blazes of the forest; man stands as-op.ess as were the victims of the j/istown flood. Rai.way t ains are o^taken, whole towns swept out of eatence, isolated homes b the score's- hundre 1 burned, leaving no traces these who occupied them, and a wit extent of country blackened to a de'rt. This : is the story in brief of tti fires in • Minnesota and Wisconsin. . The fire king had everyhing his । own way and his legions wre trium- ' phant. Hinckley. Partridg, Kerrick, : Sandstone, Mansfield, DedLm on the । Great Northern. Barronett,shell Lake i on the Omaha and Popln cn the ; Northern Pacific lines wen festroyed Saturday night and SucdaUvith the exception of Shell Lake, “here only sixty houses are burned. Ijis not possible to give anything liD accurate details, but the loss <3 life and propei ty has been terribll The fires originated in the forests, tlrr^At'vas

blowin r a gale Suaday smoldering tires sprang i formidable life, and leaped’uV/ inc edible activity uporfihdKwKspecting towns in their path. The wo st suffering is reported from Hinckley. Minn., and v.cinity. The estimate of the lo s of life there and in the surrounding towns is being increased by every report. It is said that strewn along on one street of Hinckley the bodies of twenty-nine victims wqps found, while in another spot the charred and unrecognizable remain: of 103 citizens were counted. A low estimate of the fatalities in that town alone is now placed at 300 persons. Scoreshf others were discovered severely 'in ured, while the li-t of missing was in the hundreds. It is believed th aft at least 100 victims are on the farms alnd clearings throughout the burnt district. The 10-sos life in ; nd about Hinckley. Sandstone. Pokegama, Ski ink Lake and Mission Greek will not b j known tor weeks, if eye -. The survi-v ors were taken to Pine City, where pl lysicians cared .or the injured, whi] e relief t-ains ftom Du nth. Minnea] oolis and St. Paul car .led in tents, cloth ing, food and everything necessary to & Tver the wants of the suffering survived •= Very few persons a- e left in Hinckh ;y. Score of Town; Wipe ! t. Nineteen t wns arc known.; to have been wired out. and the prop] rty loss reaches M ’,O >o,o 0. Followin gis the list of towns destroyed: | ■ Bashaw, Burnett County, Wis. J Barronett. Barron County, Wis I Benoit, Wis. Cartwright. Chippewa County, Wis Ewen. Jlich. Fifield, Pine County. Wis. Granite Bake, Barron County, Wis. , . brgataburg, Burnett.Countv, Wisl D Coun’ v Wis. - Countv, Minn. Muscoda. r -irw- > ■■ n i. , Trout Creek. Midi. Man.’ other towns were rep^^hd in danger late Sunday night, g®dott, ! near Chip) cwa Falls. Wis., “K sur- ' rounded by flames, and the pJLig o f j Chippewa Falls went to tk»WL scue ■ with steamers. Good news caH that the town of Washburn, Wi’-t» crO ss ■ the 1 ay from Ashland, had ^ na Tbeen saved. " But other reports are tit t I flames eLewhere are increasiqj fury, and are now advancing i’/ .. vast forests ea t of Ashland, • L wards the cities in the iren beq 1 fl. ing to Maruuette. The Hinckley and Barronett . over M.o 1 ,WO, while the losses,. other towns reported destroted'^ e from MO.),00) to > 5 n'.OD, accortrange , latest advices. The loss in W< n 8 ™ ] was estimated at §3O ',OIO. . — 11 < Ai 1 for the Homeless* 4

The extent of the sufleri , hai dly be described, but the I > car t charity was quickly at work, ® of the three States sending aitfClties sufferers. But railroads have y^o tne j red ! y the lires, and HIJP in " traffic has teen entirely slWcases thus preventing the star|tC^ded, of relief expedit’ons. out j no hope for a cessation of \ig’ eein ’ ! ress of the flam ?s save an er Proggreat drought. No such hop the . out, for, while much-neede<ni .nela ; promised for other points,*^ fair’’ is the prediction for th| fl Qu districts by the Weather Buit* mg Up to last reports the est

I the lives lost in the fires at different 1 I points in the two States are as given in 1 | the following list, and it is feared the 1 I list is far below the actual destruction i of human life: i Hinckley. Mihn 360 i Sandstone. Minn 46 j Sandstone, Junction 25 , 4. Pokegama, Minn 25 I Skunk Lake. Minn 29 i Shell Lake. Minn 11 Miscellaneous points 40 Total .. 466 SICKEXINGREPOKTS FROM HINCKLEY Destruction Wrought by Flames—Train Overtaken and Destroyed. Os the many reports received the ; most terrible and sickening comes I from Hinckley, Minn. Saturday after- | noon the fire jumped into the little town with the suddenness of a thunderbolt. With big leaps the flames came like a whirlwind with such force that trees several inches in thickness were twisted in twain as if they had been toothpicks. Firebrands ‘ were hur’ed into the air and carried eighty | reds cnly to fall and start new confla- ■ grations. The fire-fighters gave up Rthe battle and turned their attention Ito ] ersonal safety. An Eastern Minnesota train had just come in, and the people flocked to it for safetv. Box-cat s were coupled on, and in i an instant almost were filled and cov- ■ । e red all over with men. women, and , ' T ’ lle train barel .v pulled out i Dnlntb° a ?} U succeeded in reaching i th i About the same time an ackCOmmodaUcn train on the Hincklev ( loud branch of the road left UvO V OOLOt. ILs route lu.V <1 i n

J lay direct- | Ry acfbss the path of the fire, and in a : short time the train was in a desperate j situation. Smoke almost blinded the > engineer. The ties were burning and rails warping. Burning trees were lying across the track and were leing dashed a-ide i y the engine. Suldenly the tracks gave way and the train j toppled over. Fortunately no one was , injured, and all on i oard hurried for- ! ward to Pokegama station, which was only a short distance ahead. The condition of the people who did not get away from Hinckley on the train lor Duluth was pitiable. Wagons and bugjies were hurriedly tilled with women and children, horses were

ii~ ~\' ' /' /It ! • • A . JPMCE I < ——r I < I i , k ■ /I / r ~ _ n b-L—» V 1 __ y.\r Oi' THE 1" "' *—■jßßMMMulitS’* Heavy D its S-ho . ibe T -wris Destroyed-

swiftly harnessed and in the vehicles : 200 people fled the town, with the tire j literally at their heels. Over a hill I they flew, to a swamp, hoping that might prove the'r salvation. As t e crowd reached the edge of the mora-s j i they were o vertaken b, th ? flames and [ । all was o.er. With a last desperate effort the burning human beings j rushed into the lower portion of the j swamp, but the tire pur ued its victims i and not a soul was left to tell the tale. On Sunday mo mi ng 1:0 corpses were counted on a space of but four or five > acres. About 10) remained near j Hinckley and took refuge in a gravel- I pit saving their lives. V» HU Ti.ne on a Train. One of the most thrilling stories that , come from the Hinckley contlagrat on ; : is that of the fate of a train which left | Duluth for Hinckley at 2 o’clock Satur- ; I day afternoon. Shortly after leaving ' i Duluth the smoke along the railroad ' track becam? so thick it was impos-I sible to see ICO yards ahead. The darkness increased and the lamps in the c caches were lit. Soon it was as black as midnight and the train wa.s filled with the suffocating smoke until the passengers were gasping for breath. Trie roar of the flames could be heard off to the right of the _ train i and the encouragement the trainmen j offered the passengers fell on heedless j ■ ears. Childien began crying and I j shrieking as they clung in terror to i their mothers who fell on their knees j in the aisles praying for deliverance. ' The people on the train had no I knowledge of the de traction of HinckI lev which was then i

men and w.umen rboiiraed the cars and begged thfTraini men to pull back to Duluth. With the i speed of the wind the fire was coming from Hinckley, which was only a mile and a half away. Engineer Root of the ill-fated train put on all st mm and sent his train spinning backtowa -d Duluth. It was too late. The fire was swifter than steam. The roar became louder ■ and louder. In a moment the red glare ' burst on the view of the frantic pas-i singers. The train was flying under a fu 1 head of steam, but the tire was 1 pursuing like lightn ng. Soon the flam’s were dancing at the side of the windows. Ti e g ass began to crack e. Ihe heat came in from under the seats, through the windows and ventilator s. Men went crazy. One a ter another they jumped through the windows into the roaring flames and were swallowed up. The women recovered their presence of mind and soothed the terrified little ones. The train was on fire from the tender to the last coach and as it reached Skunk

Lake the order was giv m to abandon the cars and i'ee to a swamp nea ■ by. The pas-engers ran to the swamp aril fell half fainting in its muddy waters, j where, after the fire pa-sed. relief i parties found them blinded and burned and little more than ha f alive. DEATH IN ITS WAKE. : Awful Scenes ns tne Smnke Lifts from Burned Towns In the North. The partial lifting of the veil of smoke Monday from the desolated lumber districts gave the surviving in- ; I habitants the first full knowledge of i ' the awful horrors of the lire. From ; » 4

the rescuing parties that are following ; heroically in the black wake of the | flames ccme reports of the finding of ; scores of bodies, the great majority of them burned beyond the chance of identification. On the clearings have been found the bodies of fathers and ; brothers who met death w r hile striving to stay the progress of the flames | towards the homes which sheltered ' wives and sisters. The story is one cf horror lightened as all such stories I are by acts of heroism. Physicians at Duluth who have been to the scene of ! the fire in Pine County Io attend to the , injured sav if the deaths in other sec- , tions are in anything like proportion to those in the section which they vis- I ited the list of the lost will be in-crea-ed to more than J,OCO. The country between Ontonagon and : Channing, Mich., which is full of lum- I bar camps and contains the towns of I Rockland, Pori and Greenland, has been cut off from outside communica- I tion, and it is feared almost the entire i section has been burned over. Rains i fell in the Ashland, Wis., district and checked the flames there, but in other ' places, notably net r Hinckley, (vhere ' the greatest loss of life occurred, the downfall was not heavy enough to be | of material service. The inhabitants of Hermansville, 1 Mich., were tattling with the fire Monday night and the reports made it appear that the town was doomed. Spooner, Wis.. lies _u,t to the east of a great territory o: burning forests. A change of the wind to the west mav mean the destructi n of the town. Rib ^A 01 ' C™nty, Wi-„ has been

\ Ss»£a thO a probably lieved to bo aV ° be ‘ entertained that many have u stAnTir lives. Fires are reported cn the line of the Northwestern between Common- | wealth and Mencminec. The ra n i m st be heavy and widely extended to i extinguish thoroughly the fire over the territory still reported to bo burning. The rain cloud that deluged St. Patil barely touched with its edge the Pine County district, and with the increased velocity of the wind there is great danger that the scenes of horror will be repeated. At Iren wood, Mich., the citizens ex«

I ploded dynamite at the top of a moun- ' tain in'the hope of I ringing rain. I Railroad bridges and viaducts in that part of Michigan are reported de- । stro. e I, and stories of great loss of i life an 1 destruction of property come | from Wateisxeet, Hurley and the who’e Gogebic regie n. 'll.O awfulness of the desolation which strikes upon the eye of the observer as he reaches the camp which was < nee the t wn of Bine ley is still more strongly imp ezsed on his vision ' as he travels northward. The smoke hai lifted, revealing a landscape bare I and black, t. e lew standing trees be- ; ing charred to a height of forty feet. I wnile the ground is of that peculiar i tint of brown sand mixed with gun- ! powder, for the grass has been burned • even to the roots. And here and there, i in the bi ak snl dreary st ^tches of i country in what is now a great, lone ' land, is seen the body of a deer, woose fleet feet had not been able to outrun I the flames, or of a human being who had been absolutely powerless against the grim destroyer. GRAVES IN -GOD S ACRE.” Scores of the Victims Buried Without Ken: I tent’fied. In the center of a burned and devastated 625 square miles stands a green ! spot untouched by flames. Its grass i waves gently in the hot winds that are ; sweeping across the stricken land: its j simple, whitewashed fence can be seen I for ‘ miles. It is God’s acre, “Birchwood.” the cemetery inwMch^^g^ : p!e of Hinck ev-UMM^^^^^^The , —1- , lire '

it. : Ahd there ' tMe survivors buried their dead. Th y : knew not whose bodies they were placing bmeath the sod, but lor each charred corpse, for each dismembered body there was a woid of prayer. That was all. There was no time for extended services. The flames had I played cruel tricks with their victims and the blazing sun, which shone fiercely through a haze of smoke, :endered exj edit! >n necessary. For tho.-e to whom the lire had been more merciful in not utterly wiping out all resemblance to human beings, and who were identified by relatives or friends, a separate resting-place was provided. There was no time to dig down six feet —six inches of soil was ■ enough to cover the pine boxes from view and all the wolves were driven from the country or met the -ame fate as man. r< rth se whose identity was utterly destroyed a last resting place was provided in four long trenches. Only one minister was present, the Rev. P. Knud:on of the Presbyterian Church. From da vn until dark he was busy. As fast as a coffin wa ; low- i ered he was notified, and. casting a handful of earth on the casket, in a few simple w< rds he spoke of the hope that is in the H e to come, and prayed the Almighty that a calamity ssch as the pre ent might never again be inflicted on the earth. It is estimated that the yearly passenger trips < nthe ferry boats between New Jersey and New York number 70,060,000; that the total for all New ! York ferries will exceed 170,000,000; i that the number of boat trips equals i 1,800,000, and the number of teams"carried, 5,000,000.

SMOKED HERRINGS. Washington Is th l . Greatest Producing Venter in the Country. Few people are aware of the fact that Washington is the greatest producing center in the United States i tor smoke:! herring. One concern alone turns out LOO, 00U boxes of । these preserved delicacies each year, sending them all over the country. । The fish are caught in the Potomac from Alexandria down for a distance of about nine miles, being taken in seines. As soon as captured they are : brought to the wharves, where the females, with roes, are picked o t for smoking, the males being disposed of : by the ordinary process of salting down after their heads have been cut off. The roe herrings are conveyed to the smoke factory, if such it may j be called/’which is in the open air. They are immediately cleaned, scaled, and rinsed in cold water, after which they are soaked for twelve hours in brine that is den-e enough to float a potato. Theo they are put into | fresh water for a lew minutes, being I presently taken out and strung through the gills on long sticks. ; These sticks are extended, with the j fish dangling from them, across the open top of a huge double hogshead without any bottom to it, which ( stands on th ■ ground beneath a shed. ! They are all ready to be smoked now.

However, this part of the work has to be"done at night, because the peoV? e nei K l Xborhood And it ob- ' when o ^^ tm.e So, oak and hh tO r V ° f side of the big ho^^ v . C n e ^ strings of dangling hernrf^-^.^^ has got going well, oak and hickory sawdust is thrown upon the flames. This produces a great deal of smoke, and the men who conduct the operation keep fanning the embers constamly. adding sawdust from time to time, and continuing the fanning, while the smoke ascends and invades with its preservative elements the

the tissues of the fishes. The performance is kept up for thirteen hours, at the end of which time they are done and ready for market. Only oak and hickory are employed for smoking, because other woods give herrings an objectionable flavor. Make Bile Jingle Instead of Jar. The Tri-State Grocer and Business World exchanged ideas upon the comparative merits of some alleged poetry, and the Detroit Herald of j Commerce says: There are poets—and poets. Some who wiite vi lous verses, and some who write vi e versa. Some people do not discriminate between the two, and class all verse as vicious. To such we would repeat: “The man who has not music in his soul And is not mo\ed by concord of sweet tocn’s. Is fit for treason, strategem, and sroil.’’ True poetry is the soul of languages, and bad poetry is the language that tries men’s souls If ideas can be made to flow more freely in iii । 1111 f irm memory of the reader, it is well.

Every one knows bow much easier it is to commit verse to memory, than it is to remember prose. Poetry has its Influence over tho passions, as well as over the physical man, as instanced by the fellow named Barnabus. who fell overboard while at ?ea. The man on the lookout saw him fall, but being afflicted with an impediment in speech, in his ex -Bement, he stuttered so, that ne could not inform the ship’s captain of the acci ent After a num. her of vain attempts to speak tha Captain shouted: “Sing it you lubber, if you can’t say it,” Whereupon the stuttering seaman bawled out clearly and distinctly: “Ovcrbo rl is Barnabas And half a mile-a-starn of us Though notex uiflte poetry,it had the designed effect of rescuing the drowning man. Poetry has its uses even in trade journalism, and if, other practical affairs of life: and as there has ever been a certain poeticallicense iecognizcd,the gieat army of critics who perhaps could not put their thoughts into verse if they tr.ed, should be less critical in their strictures upon others who can. We may not all be Shakspeares, Longfellows or Whittiers; we may simply Le “sweet singers of Michi, gan.” but if we can make life jingle ih~t£Tl nf —U N~>i~^~cn cono.— -- —' u V ge t reaso n in them, and label it “poetry” if we ' please: It at worst, is better then

prosy journalism. Baby's Rights. He has a right to be “well born.” He d:d not ask for existence; see to it, then ye parents, that everything from conception to birth, conduces tu his moral, physical, and mental well being. He has a right to healthful blood and clear brains, not those impover. ished and befogged by dissipation, narcotics and alcohol. He has a right to a happy, healthful mother—one note hausted by excessive child-bearing and overwork. He has a right to your first care and thought—baby first, self last. He has a right io be kept sweet and clean, that he be not repellent to those about him. He has a right to be “mothere every day of his little life—not turned over every hour to the tender (?) mercies of the ave age conscienceless hired nurse. He has a right to you deepest love and to your Keene-t sympathies that you may, during his develop ng, enter largely into his joys and griefs. He has a right to wise discipline since, if undisciplined and uncontrolled in his infancy and childhood, a felon’s fate may await him. He has a right to an education, that life’s best gifts may be fullv appreciated. He has a right to the cultivation of any special talent with which ba is, by nature, endowed.