4.}
, "'as how we might gix \ ..-.:‘ poor fellow better
2.
AFTER THE SNOW STORM.
Each tall fir stands in white array,
A keen north wind is whistling by,
The clouds take wing and sail away.
Like huge gray birds, across the sky;
While through the. pasture, bleak and cold.
A stream‘s black windings I can trace,
And o’er you mountain, rugged, hold.
The new moon" shows a frosty face. '
——‘-Ierbcrt Bashd in Outing.
MIDS’!‘ llATTElllCll FACES.
Somehow it was my boyish ambition to be
numbered with the umvspapar makers; thus
I learned the printer‘s frade. I might, per-
haps, have done better in the linsniith line;
but what poetry was there in curving joints
of stove pipe.” that inspiration in incnding
greasy milk cans and grimy tea pots! Yet
the prosaic boy Went to work with the solder-
ing iron when I went to sticking types, mar-
ried the belle of the village and owns the best
house in town, while I——ah, well! I am
pointed out as the distinguished author of
“An Ode to a Pin,” with no house at all and
a chattel mortgage on all my bachelor effects!
I blossomed out in journalism, after serv—
inga duo apprenticeship, as the solo editor
and proprietor of The Gad Hollow Spectator,
printed in a sleepy little town in \‘v'cstcrn
New York. The village had some prospects
of future greatness when I launched The
x _.
i
I Brown, the lunatic, while I thought of my
ghostly ledger and said never a word.
“W'ell,” said Bob, “I guess we’ll let the
scrawl remain as a. specimen of high art ver-
'sification. Grim wanderer,” he added pa-
thetically, “may you never ‘be boiled‘—at
least, not so extensively as was poor old
Job!”
But I made up my mind that the paper
should come down; so, one day, I loosened
a corner of it with myzcomposing rule, when,
to my great fright, down came a shower of
mortar upon my defenseless pate. _A yard
i or more of hanging plaster had tumbled
l
~ from the ceiling. Never from that time
forth did I lay sacrilcgious hands upon that
‘ paper.
Some time along in midwintcr a traveling
compositor struck town, and was given a.
temporary “sit” on The Spectator. He was
a. veteran at the case, and had evidently seen
a good deal of the world. Like all of his
class, our new man was a. most entertaining
conversationalist, and together we spent the
evenings smoking our pipes around the 01d
ofIice stove, while he talked of far countries,
of people of note, of footlight favorites, of
brakcmcu who had kindly permitted him to
snuggle himself in the co 'ner of a coal ca ‘ as
he journeyed, with empty pockets, from one
point to another in earch of work. Extol—
ling the. philanthropic brakeman, in one of
our siestas, he rounded up his glowing tribute
'1‘
by exclaiming: “When Iatel‘vine Joe meets
Spectator, but the great Duradogo railroad
that was to give the placca boom adopted 1
another route. and the proud hopes of Grad
I-lollow were forever crushed.
One night into in October I turned the kcv ;
' " ‘ Joe?”
in my oflicc door and star ed down the dc-
sertcd strcet for my lodgings. I had passed '
the livery barns and was making good head- ,
way up the dilapidated sidewalk, when I
hearda \uznii-e ~alling mc. ’I‘urning, I saw—
for the moon was at its Zi‘Hltlr—H. lad ap-
proaching me from the oppositc sidcof the
street on what is vulgarly ~alled a «log trot.
“You’re the ink slingerof The Spectator,
ain’t yer?” said the boy evidently in some
uneasineso of mind.
I recognized. my iiit-ci'i'<'.igatoi‘ as a strange ,
lad who had drift-ed into town in lhccarly ’
summer, who “chored it" here and there and
made his nonu- in the cast off box of an old i
stage coach i511}; since removed from its
trucks and laid to rest among the tall Weeds
bythe roadside. This temporary abode of
the youthful tramp was variously dubbed as
“The Arlington,“ "The Ark,” "The Friendly
Inn,” and some ironically disposed persons,
flinging away all reverence, even wcnt so far
as to call it “The. Saint‘s Rest.” for the hos-
pitable tenant. Master Jap, gave lodgings t0
pilgrims—mostly bihulous characters, who in
their cups feared to go home and face a
frowning world —-or rather a frowning
spouse.
I assured the lad that I was the veritable
ink slinger, and he continued:
"“lVell, sir, there’s a strange, man a—shiver-
in’ovcr’n the ark—shiverin’ as though his
bones would rattle out of his hide and come
peltin’ down on tho floor like hail stones. And
do you mind, sir, how cold it is?" The boy
was himself shivering, and the dcad grass, l
stiff and gray with frost, cracklcd under his ~
feet as he twisted back and forth upon his
heel.
"It is rather bracing,” I replied, sinking
my hands still deeper into my pookets.
“Now I were thix:;..:i‘.” continued the. lad,
accommodations for the night by dumping
him inter your ollice by the fire. 01‘ course,
I've given him the bust in The Arlington——
Senator Turntable‘s own private parlor—an’
covcrcd hnn up the best I could with an old
cart whccl, but there’s :1 spoke or two brokgn
out of the wheel an‘ must let, in a h lap of cold.”
I could not help smiling at the boy‘s droll-
cry, nor from feeling somcwhat solicitous
about the stranger under the cart wheel, in
which wheel thcrc wore sundry spokes miss—
ing; so Jap and I started for the Arlington.
On arriving at the inn, so called, I beheld
a vcry thin man snuggled in a corner, hug-
ging himself tightly, as if to concentrate
what little heat there was left in the various
and remote parts of his long, lank body. I
had never before sccn so thin and wasted a.
form. The face, closely shavcn, appeared all
eyes and forehead—and such eyes! so dark
and so luminous. I had no sooner beheld the.
stranger than I resolved to give him better
accoiiiuimlations in The Spectator office. He
could at least sit by the fire. If the thin
gentleman should even run oil" with the cd-
itorial shears and the paper come out a day
late on account of the theft, I’d let him in
and al.ide the conscquenccs.
“Come," said I. addressing the stranger,
"we have. a more comfortable place for you.”
The man did not answer, but arose and ,
stepped {willy forth from the box. Japi
and l led the way and soon had him;
inside thc office. I sat before him a:
boitlc of stomach hitters (taken on an ‘
advert ising contract) and some broken i
victuals. tho rcsiduc of my noonday lunch. i
I also made a. bed on the floor of old 5
newspapers and replenished the fire with i
chunks of wood. \l'hcn Jap and I left the l
oflicc the man sat by the stove looking won- i
dcringly about upon the types and printing l
utensils. I asked Jap to share the comforts l
of the office, but he declined, saying be pre- ‘2,
fcrrcd his old nest at the inn.
I arose earlier than usual the next morning
and hastened to the office to turn out my ‘
lodgcr. To my surprise. the place. was al- :
ready vacated—«my guest had a niconde'd.
Had the thin man vcniurcd too near thcopcu
draught of the stove and been sucked into the
fire? liad he gone up the line in vapor.2 As
I was not. quite sure that ho was at all mor-
tal, I did not long barrow my feelings with
the thought. If he were indeed a ghost, he
doubtlcss made his exit through the key hole:
if mortal, he could easily have clambcred out
at the window. Nothing appcai'cd to be dis-
turbed. and I went about cleaning up the
shop congratulating myself that no one, savo
Jap, would know of my nocturnal visitor.
It was publication day, and all was bustle
about the ofiice till The Spectator was printed
and sent forth to gladdcn the hearts of its :
numerous readers. Then the printers, my—
self with them, mounted their stools, and
with a sigh of relief commenced filling their
cases. ‘
“ W hat infernal nonsense is this?” exclaimed
Bob. the foreman, rising to a perpendicular
0n the rounds of his high chair, and gazing at
the partition wall just above his case. “It’s
the most incoherent conglomeration of jingle '
and prose that I ever beheld. Blast it!
There’s something uncanny about it. One
would think a corpse had been prowling
round the office.”
Following Bob’s eye, I beheld a scrap of
paper pasted to the wall, on which were writ‘
ten in bold characters the following mysteri-
ous words:
i
x
i
I
I
|
i
I
g
i
g
l
i
l
i
i
|
l
l
l
l
|
l
TATER VINE. .
Hated, hunted and L's-ranted—
Dead as “Laz,” but never planted,
Wander I.
Entombed midst battered faces,
Broken leads awl lmnt up spaces—
In the “pi,”
' 'l‘o mortify,
Leave I .
My heart.
WI shall not be boiled.
[E‘Throw in all dead matter.
Tom B.
_ “A prank of the kid,” said one of the com-
positors.
, good while.”
a smutty faced b ‘akeinan he mec‘Js a brave
heart, a true heart—rough it may be, but
full to overflowing with the milk of human
; kindness!”
“Tatervinc. .Ioc,” said I, "who‘s 'l'alcrxine
"chll, sir, I‘m Taiervine Joe—~t‘uat is, I’m
known' by that cognonicn to many of the
craft. I used to sing the grasshopper and
tatcrvinc song with such true artistic feeling,
that I became so entangled in the vine that it
stuck to uni long after the boys refused to
listen more to my melodious ditty.”
“'I‘atcrvinc,” said I, “I’ve got a song for
you to sing. It has await-ed your coming 2).
And I led him to the mys-
crious writing on the wall over Bob‘s case.
The new compositor road the lines and,
turning to me with moistened eyes, said:
“I will tell you a short story. Two men,
both type stickers, on ‘p left New Orleans for
the diamond fields of ‘outh America. They
went for adventure and to better their for-
tunes. Onc never was married; the other
was a young widower, who left behind, in
the care. of a relative, a. sweet little maiden
over whose head four summers had flown.
The father idolized the child. Me, of the two
adventurers, went forth with a purpose. To
gain for the child was his one motive in life.
He worked hard and fortune favored him.
()f the. two who returned after five years’
toil and privation, he, the father, had treas-
ure—both money and sparkling gems. But,
alas! the relative into whose keeping the
child was intrnsted had died. Of the girl no
trace could be found. Sonic afiirmed that
she, too, was dead. This broke the fond
father’s heart and quite turned his head.
“He searched for his child, but in vain.
"To think.’ said hc, ‘of robbing myself of the
sunshine of her presence so many years for
the paltry treasures of the mine—one loving
smile from her lips would buy them all! Ah,’
continued he, ‘I once had a heart of ficsh~it
has turned to crystal now. In my bosom I
shall put- thesc fateful stones. Though light,
they seem to crush me. I will carry them
unseen, in penance. I set my heart on them;
they shall now sit on my heart—yea, they
shall be my heart. Henceforth I am dead!’
The man grew thin and wasted, and he wan—
dered afar. llis friend saw him last some
three years ago. Later. he reccived a. letter
from the wanderer. It was mostly an in-
coherent muddle—the stony heart was crush-
ing him—tho inips of darkness coveted his
bones—they would boil him into glue—of the
glue they would make an inking roller and
spread darkness over the face of the heavens.”
“Hold on, 'I‘atervine,” said I, “the riddle is
solved. You are. the friend; and this,"
pointing to the. scrawl, “is the wandererh
latest message to you.” Then I told him of
my thin lodger of that cold October night.
“He’s buried his heart-dds burdensome
trcasl.1ri.>——his diamonds in your ‘hcll box,’
“— midst battered faces,
Broken leads and bent up spaces."
said Tatervine. “There’s a Providence in
that.” he continued. “for I have found his
long lost daughter.”
Sure enough. there ii: the receptacle for
old and broken types, incascd in a. small can-
vas sack. were the "sinners” and the follow-
in g note:
DEAR 'l‘A'l‘l-Ilu‘lts'lii As you migrate. it is possible
that you may strike this place. I bury my heart
in this box. You may find it. It will not be b1n'-
donsonu- to you. The accarscd diamonds are
Wyonrs if Bessie is dead. It you find them not,
they may he. a benefit to the. poor lad who is try-
ing to run a first class paper in this woebcgono
town. He was kind to me, but you have always
been my l'rit-nd. I shall not be boiled! I go to
Niagara Falls to-morrow. You know what he-
. . 9
comes of morbid people who go to the falls.
Ton brr'ricnri::Lo.
Bessie. got the diamonds.
I never heard anything more of poor Tom.
—Jaspcr Hondurson in Democrat and Chroni-
clc.
flats at the Sociable.
The senior partner of a large wholesale
house here is a pillar of one of the big
churches. and he is always cndeavoring to
interest his minor cmploycs in religion. He
invites them up to the sociablcs as a. starter.
fills them full of oyslcrs and ice cream, and
then rcnlzs them a sitting in the church. A
few weeks ago he tackled one of his entry
clerks, whom every one in the store thought
was beyond rcdemption, and asked him to
attend a sociable in the church parlors 011
the following evening. The young man knew
that the first of tho year—~the time when sal-
aries are readjusted—was near at hand, and
he told the shipping clerk after the “old man”
went up stairs, that he believed he would
take in the sociable to please the head of the
house. \Vell, he did so. \Vore his new plug
hat and was “dressed in his best suit of
clothes.” He was warmly greeted by the
“old man” when he came from the coat room,
and was introduced all around as a possible
brand to be plucked from the burning. He
met many pretty girls, and lingered late at
the ice cream table.
W'hen he showed up at the store the next
morning he had on a most disreputable look—
ing plug hat, and his associates united in a
chorus of “W'hero did you get that hat?”
Said the young man: “Got it up at the socia—
ble last night. Didn’t leave until late and
this was the only but left in! the coat room.”
The boys all laughed at him and one of them
said: “I suppose you go to no more socia-
bles?” But the wily entry clerk grinned and.
looked wise. Just one week later he turned
up at the store with a brand new, glossy tile.
When questioned he said: ”Went to the
sociable again last night, but I only staid ten
minutes. I waited until every one was in tho
parlors, and then I went into the coat room
and nailed this but. It was the best in the
place. But I take no more of those chances,
and will drop the sociables and take chances
on my wages next year.”—Chicago Herald.
To silver ivory, soak it in a. weak solution
of nitrate of silver; the ivory gradually ac-
quires a yellow color. Then withdraw it, and
plunge in very pure water; expose to the sun,
by whose action it will become black in a. few
Bob pronounced it the work of old Silo
hours; by rubbing it becomes very bright.
' .
' AN on) TIME BLIZZAllD.
RECOLLECTIONS OF A STORM OF
OVER FIFTY YEARS AGO.
It Came \Vith a. Low, Bellowing
Accompanied by
and an Icy Breath—From Thaw to Freeze
Noise,
Electric Pyrotechnics
in Five Minutes—A I’lucky lridegroom.
The memory of but few of the pioneers of
western Illinois and eastern Iowa will carry
them back with me to December 20, 1836, the
date of the long time remembered sudden
change, the most remarkable in meteorogical
annals that is recorded, and now only found
in a few old files of the newspapers of that
' day and referred to in some of the histories
of that time.
For several days previous, up to the 10th,
it had been what we in Illinois and Iowa call
“snug winter weather.” Snow had fallen to
the depth of three or four inches, the sleigh—
ing was fairly good and the settlers were im-
proving it by hauling firewood, ~ails and
building material from the “timber lots” to
their homes and to their newly improved
farms. On the 19th the weather moderated,
and in the early evening it clouded up and
during the night and earl y morning of the
20th it rained moderately, accompanied by
thunder and lightning. .
The snow was melting from the influence
of the springlikc wcathcr and the rain, and
, had become “slash” snow, mud and water.
i This continued to near 11 o’clock in the morn-
. ing, when off to the northwest was observed
a dark, heavy cloud. As it rose toward the
zenith it'sprcad west and north, accompanied
by a low, bellowing noise, “as the sound of
far off waters falling into deep abyss-cs.” As
the cloud spread it became inky black, the
thunder increased, the lightning played,
making a grand pyrotechnic display from
this artillery practice in rm: sky.
The commotion increase: . The. air see icd
resonant with the tumult of the elements- and
the bellowing sound as from the bowels of
the earth increased. It was everywhere——
pervaded space. “Could not tell whence it
came or whither it went.” A dusky dark-
ness spread ovor the earth, the thunde‘ and
lightning still continuing. Then the wind
broke loose and sprcady its icy presence over
the land—“the December thaw” was at an
end. “'intcr claimed dominion, showed his
power by his coldness, and clasped earth and
space in his embrace.
The thunder and lightning ceased, as did
the bellowing sound, but the clear cut, pierc—
ing wind came with freezing power from the
bleak stretches of the northern prairies, and
in less time than I am writing this the water,
snow and soft earth were congealed into ice,
so that in a minute it would bear the weight
of a man, and in ten or fifteen minutes a
horse could t‘avel over it without breaking
through.
Great was the suffering among the people.
This change from a balmy, springlike atmos-
phero to that of an arctic coldness found
I
them unprepared. Many were out on the
prairies without overcoats, gloves or mit-
tens, and were badly frozen before they
could reach their homes. Some were frozen
to death. Stock—horses, cattle and swine——
were frozen, and the birds and animals of
the prairies and forests were almost exter-
minated. .
It was as severe on the settlers of that day
as the “Dakota blizzard” of two years ago
was to the people of that territory. Before
closing this inadequate description of the
“sudden change,” I will describe the priva-
tion and suffering of an expectant bride-
groom, who was “caught out” in the war-
ring elements, and as “all is well that ends
well,” as it proved in this, I know your read—
ers will enjoy the relation.
My old friend \Vashington Crowder, one
of the early pioneers of Sangamon county,
had concluded the courting of Miss Isabel
Laughlin on the 10th, they agreeing to "or-
ganize a family.” He had asked consent of
the parents of the bride—elect, the wedding
to take place on the Illst, the intervening
day being necessary to go to Springfield and
get the license that would permit tho minis-
tor to tie the knot.
So, on the morning of the 20th, he took his
way across the prairie from a point on Sugar
creek, some ten miles south of Springfield.
He bestrodc a stalwart horse, as the roads
were deep with melting snow, “slush,” and
as it was raining he carried a broad um-
brella over him and wore a long tailed over-
coat “all buttoned down before” that almost
reached his feet. Thus comfortably equipped
he pursued his way, taking it easy, as he did
not choose to urge the horse through the
deep slush.
When he had gone over half way he no-
ticed, off to the far northwest, the cloud ris—
ing that I havo described. It came nearer
apace with all the phenomenal bellowing
sounds—cloud of inky blackness, thunder and
lightning and general commotion of the ele-
ments; then the wind burst, during which
time he had lowered his umbrella, taking but
a moment. But presto, change! thcn gath—
ering up his bridle reins he found them stiff
as an iron poker; the water and “slush” were
ice, and in less than fifteen minutes his horse
walked on top of the congealed mass. ‘
Carefully but slowly he wended his way on
to Springfield and, stopping in front of a
store on the west side of the square, he tried
to dismount. Not much. His clothin g, his
long tailed overcoat that'had served him such
a. good purpose, and his pantaloons all were
frozen fast to the saddle and that to the horse,
and ceutaur like they were one—man, saddle
and horse—with the big overcoat like a sheet
Iron casement encircling them all. He called
loudly for help and two men came out of the
store.
They “took in the situation,” examined the
“subject,” and finally one of the men felt
along the saddle girt, found that the animal
heat had kept the saddle girt liinber. He un—
buckled it, and by the united effort of the
two saddle and man were “peeled” from the
horse and carried into the store, placed before
a. rousing fire and “thawed” apart; the over-
coat released its stiffness and “peeled” from
him. After warming himself he proceeded
to the clerk’s office, procured the necessary
document, went to the hotel, ate a hearty
dinner, his horse having been cared .for, and
soon he was ready to proceed homeward.
The ice was so slippery he dare not try to
ride, so turned the horse loose before him, fol-
lowed on foot, and in the shades of the even-
ing arrived at the house he had left in the
morning with a consciousness of faithfulness
to promise—duty well performed.
On the morrow, the day of days—the 215t-
when his Isabel was to become Mrs. Crowder,
he was up betimes, clothed in raiment befit-
ting the occasion. It was several miles across
the prairies to the residence of the Laughlins,
and the big horse. was brought out, but it was
found that he could not proceed on horse-
back aud W'ashington took his way on foot
and the home of his affianced was reached “on
time.”
The friends were gathered, the minister
ready and the words were spoken that made
one of two happy hearts that the sudden
“change” could not keep apart. Young in
life then, they lived long, raised a. worthy
family, and in later years stood among the
“Old Settlers” as good citizens, and, passing
away, left a sweet memory behind them, not
the least being the recollections of the “sud-
den change.”-—Jeriah Bonham in Burlington?
Hawkeye. 5
l
Oi
INORWALK GAZETTE, WEDNESDAY, JANUARY 29,
i
i A ROMANCE O‘F RICHES.
The Town of Rouseville, IVhero an Acre
Was \Vorth §2,000,000.
This is the oldest townjin the Pennsylvania
oil regions, having been the first town‘to
spring into life under the wonderful stimulus
of the oil excitement It is located on Oil
creek, two and a half miles above Oil City,
and it was here that thathird well was drilled
for oil, and on the McElhanny farm, a short
distance above Rousevillc, the first rgal
“spouter” was struck. This was the famous
“Fountain well,” which flowed a stream of
oil over the top of the derrick, high above the
tallest trees in the neighborhood, and started
the great rush of people into this wonderful
region. This was once a great oil metropolis,
with banking offices, scores of hotels and all
the commercial facilities of a city. Being so
near to Oil City and. Petroleum Center, its
population never got above 10,000, if it
reached that figure, but it was one of the
most active cities in the belt of oil. It was
surrounded by some of the wonderful flow-
ing wells of early oil days. The W'idow ne-
Clintock farm, which fell info the rassession
of Johnny Steele, afterwards known to the
world as “Coal Oil Johnny,” is within sight
of this town. Like all other oil towns, Rouse-
ville has been swept by fireanumbcr of times,
and there is but little of the old town left.
that is left of it is a curious old relic, in
which there is but little to suggest the hustle
and excitement and the fortunes lost and
won in former days. “Coal Oil Johnny” is
by no means the only man who foundan easy
fortune within sight of this queer old town.
The first great. oil fire was here when the
louse well was burned, and Henry Rouse,
after whom the town was named, was burned
to death, along with sixteen other men. The
story of this tragedy harp; been told in these
columns and need not D‘e repeated. It was
the most appalling tragedy in the history of
oil fires, and, being the first, it createdawon-
derf‘ul sensation. There has been talk of
erccting a monument on the site of the fire
to honor the memory of the sixteen men who
were the first to perish in the development of
the oil region. Col. Drake, who drilled the
first oil well, has no monument yet, and the
citizens of Rouscville do not believe that
either monument will ever be erected.
If oil were found in a. literal lake, instead
of in a porous rock, Rouseville, like Petro-
leum Center, would have been situated over
alake of oil. A number of big wells were
struck within the limits of the town, and
great “gushers” surrounded the town on
every side. Not only were the Oil creek
flats hero wonderfully prolific, but Cherry
run, which empties into Oil creek at this
point, produced some 'wells only second in
richness to the Oil creek wells. Some of the
largest of these were near Rouseville, and it
can be said that the wells in the vicinity
have produced enough oil to have sub-
merged thc town. The money value of the
oil taken from the ground near Rouseville is
above $50,000,000. The Story farm alone has
produced about $10,000,000 worth of petro-
leum, and still has a small production—per-
haps 100 barrels per month. The first well
drilled at Rouseville, the third on the creek,
as stated. was put down by the primitive
method of a “spring pole engine.” This was
no engine at all, but a stout sapling, or
spring pole to which the tools were attached.
Three or four men would pull the spring pole
down and its spring would lift the tools for
the next stroke. This was called “tramping
a well down,” and as many of them were
trumped down to the depth of 500 and 600
feet the operation was very slow and tedious.
No less than 150 wells were put down on Oil
creek in this crude way before steam was ap-
plied to the work. W'here three months were
often required to drill a well then, one is
drilled now in ten days and even less.
The history of some of the big wells near
Rousevillc is the history of many, and will
serve to illustrate the amazing richness of the
oil belt in this section. The Reed well, on
Cherry run, was struck July 17, 1804. It
was located on an acre of leased ground. The
land interest was to receive one-quarter of
the oil and the owners of the well the balance.
One well was put down, and in ninety days
from starting the drill $785,000 had been real-
ized from it by the working interest alone.
The Mingo Oil company, of Philadelphia,
bought out one-quarter of the land interest in
the well for $280,000, after the owner had al-
ready sold S30,000 worth of oil from it. Mr.
Reed, after selling $75,000 worth of oil from
his account, sold to Bishop, Bissell 8.: Co.
half of his interest for $200,000. A man named
Frazier had an interest in the well that netted
him $100,000 in oil, and he afterwards sold his
interest for $100,000 cash. Most of these sales
were cash in hand. The Miugo Oil company
paid $230,000 for their interest in one pay-
ment. Three other wells were drilled on this
one acre of ground, and from the four wells
$2,000,000 were realized. This is perhaps the
richest acre of ground ever developed in the
oil country. The original owners were men
of small means, and all became wealthy from
this single transaction. Even the Philadel-
phia and New York companies who bought
them out at such extravagant figures real-
ized handsomely from their investment.
There is no sign of the Reed well or any of
its rich neighbors now. The places where the
derricks and tanks stood are grown high with
weeds and bushes, and from the mine of
wealth the spot has returned to its primitive
wildness and worthlessncss.-—-Rouseville (Pa)
Special.
Dilly Emerson’s Team.
I joined a group in the Sturtevaut house,
in the centeifiof which was Billy Emerson,
the niinstrel. He was relating to his listen-
ers some of his experiences on the road. “In
my early days,” he was saying, “I was a
member of a little hand of minstrels whose
modesty was in perfect keeping with its
size. We only played the smaller towns,
and every afternoon, rain or shine, we gave
our parade. As I was the star I insisted
that, in order to give tone to the company,
the manager and I should head the process
sion in a carriage. W'ell, I had my way,
and there was always a scramble on the
manager’s part, as soon as we reached a
stand, to get the best looking carriage and
team that the town afforded.
“We were to play in a little town out
west one night, and had secured from the
only livery establishment in the place the
pair of horses which were also wed in the
town hearse. \l’ell, there was a funeral that
day, but the stable keeper, who was an
Irishman, promised faithfully to be on hand
at the tavern by 2 o’clock. The members of
the company, surrounded by a crowd of gap-
ing rustics, were standing out on the plank
walk waiting for the start, and I was on the
porch waiting impatiently for ‘me coach.’
At 1:59 o’clock I looked down the road in the
direction of the, stable and discovered an
open carriage with two horses on a dead run,
driven by our Irish friend, who yelled out to
me as he reined in his panting steeds before
door: “Av yez thought I wasn’t coomin’,
sure yez don’t know Pat Shea, for, be hev-
ins, I’d been here on toime av I’d a had to
brought the corpse, Wid me!”-—-New York
Star.
Over Enough.
A gentleman said to a large crowd of peo-
ple that was pouring out of a public hall:
' “What’s going on inside?” .
“A humorous lecture,” was the reply.
“Is it over already, it’s only 9 o’clock?”
“No ” shouted the crowd, “it’s only about
,
half over."-—Epoch.
1890..
DYING IN HARNESS.
Onlya fallen horse. stretched out there on the
road,
Stretched in the broken shafts. and crushed by the
heavy load;
Only a. fallen horse and a circle of wondering
eyes
Watching the frighted teamster goading the beast.
to rise.
Hold! for his toil is over; no more labor for him;
See the poor neck outstretched and the patient
eyes grow dim:
See on the friendly stones how peacefully rests
his head,
Thinking, if dumb beasts think. how good it. is to
be dead:
After the burdened journey. how restful it is to
lie
With the broken shafts and the cruel load. wait-
ing only to die!
Watchers, he. (lied in harness, died in the shafts
and straps:
Fell, and the great load killed him: one of the
day‘s mishaps,
One of the passing wonders marking the city
read,
A toiler dying in harness. needless of call or goad.
Passers, crowding the pathway.
steps awhile,
Was it the symbol?
cease to smile
At death for a beast. of burden?
busy street
That is ever and ever echoing theirnm .- .
hurrying feet!
staying your
Only death; why should we
On through the
What was the sign" A symbol Lu l.;..i .x r...-.- in.-
less will.
Does he who taught in parables spool; 2.. p..
still?
The seed on the rock is wastrd. on the needless
hearts of men,
That gather and sow and grasp {:lt'l loSl'. labor
and sleep. and then:
Then for the prize! A crowd in the street of ever
echoing tread.
The toiler, crushed by the heavy load. is there in
his harness dcadl
x'.li.i.“:€
-—John Boyle O‘Reilly
South America's Pampern.
A strange natural phenomenon is the pam-
pero, a South American storm wind. It is
thus described: A light breeze had been
blowing from the northeast, but had steadily
increased in force and brought with i t the
heated air of the tropics, which, passing over
a trceless pampa country exposed to the
burning sun rays of a clear sky, so warms up
the atmosphere on the shores of the Rio de la
Plata that its effect upon human beings is ex-
ceedingly bad. This state of things generally
lasts for a week or longer, until the stifling
heat becomes unbearable, and the inhabitants
are seen resting in grass hammocks or lying
on bare floors, incapable of exertion. -
However, relief is close at hand. A little
cloud “iio bigger than a man’s hand” is first
seen to rise above the water, then the heavens
grow black with clouds, and the battle of op—
posing winds begins. The pampero advances
with its artillery well in front; forked flashes
of vivid lightning, followed by pcals of thun~
der, bear down upon the foe, who, quite up
to the moment of attack, is fiercely discharg-
ing its fiery breath on the surrounding re-
gions. The inhabitants now climb on the
azortcas, or flat roofs, to watch the struggle
and to be the first to participate in the de-
licious relief brought by the pampero to their
fevered bodies.
Far out on the river a curious sight may
be seen; the opposing waves, raised by the
rival winds, meet like a. rush of cavalry in
wild career; their white horses with foaming
crests dash themselves against each other and
send clouds of dazzling spray high in the air;
this, being backed by an inky sky, renders the
scene most imposing. Gradually the north-
easter gives way, followed closely by its ene—
my, the pampero, which throws out skirmish-
ing currents of ice cold wind in advance of
its final onslaught. Then comes the roar of
the elements, and a deluge such as no one
would willingly encounter, and cooler weath-
er is established for the time being—Cleve-
land Herald.
Don’t Sit on Your Spines!
“We ought to establish in the United States
a school of deportment for public men,” says
Kate Field. “And the first motto I should
hang up over the door would be: ‘Don’t sit
on your spine!’ ” I couldn’t help thinking of
that as I sat in the gallery of the house of
representatives the day the chief justice (le-
livered his oration. In marched the president
and Mr. Blaine, followed by the other secre—
taries, and sat down in the first row of the
amphitheatre. Sat? Yes, sitting is what; it is
called. lVithin five minutes every mother’s
son of them, with perhaps one exception, had
slid down so that his body was supported by
his shoulder blades and the small of his back.
The justices of the supreme court followed,
and down they went in the same way. So
did the rest of the dignitaries, as bevy after
bevy filed in. In contrast with them there
sat the foreign ministers and the delegates to
the two international conferences, as upright
as ramrods. IVhat made the contrast most
disagreeable was the fact that our own great
men were by far the best looking persons on
the floor, as a rule. It seem-ed a pity that
they should spoil their fine effect by such an
attitude. But it is the common fault of
Americans in public places. Congress habit.-
ually sits on its four hundred and odd spines
when it isn’t making speeches or writing let-
ters. Our magistrates do it 01 the bench.
Our legislators do it. Everybody does it.—
Chicago Times.
Settling a. Duel.
An amusing story used to be told of a wag
who accepted a. challenge to fight a duel. On
the appointed day he sent word to his oppo—
nent to chalk on a board an outline of his
(the challenged party’s) figure, and if the
challenger hit it he would consider himself
wounded or dead, as the case might be.
This story may possibly iaVe originated
from one told in the “History of Hartford,
Vt.,” of Consider Bardwell. an irascible inn—
keeper of that town.
He was often at variance with his neigh-
bors, and once he and a guest, havmg quar-
reled, agreed to fight a duel. At. the ap—
pointed hour the adversary appearerl, armed
with a shotgun. Bardwell loved a joke. and,
being very busy, said to him:
“Tom, I’ll tell you what I’ll do: You go
out and set up a board about my size and
shoot at it, and if you hit it I’ll acknowledge
myeslf killed, and treat the crowd.”
. The ludicrous proposition made every one
laugh, and thus ended a farce—Youth’s
Companion.
‘flbar anfiiflear.
One of the annoyances to which a popular
restaurant, as well as hotels, are subjected,
is a continual cure of petty thieving by
patrons. If soap of good quality is used in
the wash rooms, it disappears as fast as it is
put out. Hair brushes and combs are car-
ried away every day, and, strange as it may
seem, every day finds a restaurant doing a
big business short: on its knives, spoons, forks,
cups, butter dishes, saucers, and even plates.
The cruets in the casters and salt and pep-
per shakers also disappear. In the hotels the
loss in fine glassware in which drinks are
served is considerable annually, and towels
are carried away by the score. There are
hundreds of people who were never known
to buy matches, but they always fill their
boxes from the public supply. This is all
annoying and quite expensive, but itisono
of the items of wear and tear in business.—
Interview in St. Louis Globe-Democrat. '
THE NAME IS All ill
' lt’slhe Quahty that
Cou
' DiflIiP‘Ey'es.
According to an English journal two minor
branches of the doll industry ferm distinct
trades—the making of shoes and eyes. The
shoes are made from the waste material of
children’s ornamental shoes and boots; but
this branch is a smaller one than that of eye
making, as many dolls are -~ sent out with
merely painted boots, while all or nearly all
have proper eyes. Dolls’ eyes are of two
sorts, known technically as common and nat-
ural. The common aré simply colored hol-
low glass spheres of white enamel, black and
blue being the only colors used. The natural
eyes are of similar composition, but havethe
pupil and iris correctly represented. Consid-
erable quantities are exported, especially to
French dollmakers. The black eyes are used
for dolls exported to South America, and
blue eyes for those used at home, children
naturally preferring their dolls to have eyes
of a similar has to those most common among
themselves.
Some Foolish People
Allow a cough to run until it gets beyond
the reach of medicinc. They often say,
“Oh it will wear :iWay,” but in most cases
it wcais them away . Could thcv be in-
duced to try the suczrcssful medicine
called Kemp’s Balsam, which is sold on a
positive guarantee to care. they would
immediately see the excellent, cifcct after
taking the first dosc. Price 500. and $1.
Trial size free At all druggi.s s.
Alittle child, tired of play. had pillowed
his head on a railroad track and fallen
asleep. The train was almost upon him
when a passing stranger rushed forward
and saved him from a. horrible death. Per-
haps you are asleep on the track, too. You
are. if you are neglecting the hacking
cough. the hectic flush, the loss of a pc-
tite, growing weakness and lassitude, w ich
have unconsciously crept upon you. Wake
up. or the train will be upon you! Con-
sumption, which thus insidiously fastens
its hold upon its victims while they are un-
conscious of its approach, must be taken in
time. if it is to be overcome. Dr. Pierce’s
Golden Medical Discovery has cured thou-
sands of cases of this most fatal of maladies.
If taken in time, and given a fair trial. it
is guaranteed to benefit or cure in every
case of Consumption, or money paid for it
will be promptly refunded.
For Weak Lungs, Spitting of Blood.
Shortness of Breath, Bronchitis. Asthma.
Severe Coughs, and kindred affections, it
is an efficient remedy.
Copyright. 1888, by WORLD’S DIS. MED. ASS’N.
‘anflm
offered for an
incurable case
of Catarrh in the Head.~by
. - — 2 - " the proprietors of Doctor
Sage’s Catarrh Remedy. Only 50 cents.
Sold by druggists everywhere.
will“
nts.
Sleepers En
GIGé. 35
Are guaranteed and
proven the best 100.
cigar in the market.
Sold everywhere.
S. S. SLEEPER & C0" Fnctory,’Boslun
Enjoy a Good Light!
Better fhan Gas—Best Lamp in the World.
66 .« 99
The Keen-ester Lamp:
3%
a .
IT IS PERFECTLY M l’l-l.
BIA-‘31 TO ii If".
DOES HUT .‘iEEi'iKE.
blilli'lili' PERFECT.
Every lamp warranted.
_Our trade mark, the “Re-
cnestcr," is stampcd on ev-
ery lamp. Be sure you rat
the genuine article.
. . We make about 1.000 mm:—
‘ ties cf Chandeliers, Hang—
ing Lamps, Piano Lamps,
Vase Lamps, &c., &c.
ELEGANT AND USEI’EL
' for WEDDING
and ClllllS'l'ZlA-‘S GIFTS.
YOU would have nothim:
but 'l HE “ ROCHESTER"
if you would see the lamp as
TLEY AUTEALLI’ WORK.
Over 503,603 have been sold,
which speaks for itsc‘ .
nufacfurcd by
M2:
EDWARD ft‘liLLER s32 06.,
10 and 1'). College. Place, New York.
If your dealer don’t sell it, come to our store.
Send for Circular.
Instant relief. Final cure in 10
days and never returns. No
gar e, no salve, no suppository.
erere Will learn 0 asimplc
I remedy FREE by addressing _
e - kCity-
Toma: & 00., 78 Nassau Street, N w Yer
ALL DRUGGIS'I‘S. l
.Emonv
Mind wandering cured. Books learned
in one reading. Testimonials from all
— FREE sent on a pi'cat‘spectins POST
_ , 1 1011 o to .
D A. Loisette, 237 Ii‘i‘fth Ave. New York.
MARVELOUS
Europe as
it ERIPPE
Speedily and Permanently Cured by the
Use of that well-known Remedy,
Wistar’s Balsam of Wild Cherry,
which cures Coughs, Bronchitis, Croup,
Whooping Cough, Influenza, Asthma,
Colds, Hoarseness, Sore Throat, Pains
or Soreness in the Chest, Side and Back,
Bleeding at the Lungs, &c. 50 cts. and $1 _
a Bottle. Prepared by Seth W. Fowle &
Sons, Boston. Sold by all Druggists.
Norwalk Chronicler