The Sauk Centre Herald (Sauk Centre, Minnesota), 1867-10-10

              VOLUME!.
SAUK CENTRE, MINNESOTA, THURSDAY, OCTOBER 10, 1867.
NUMBER 91.
- PUBLISHED   EVERT   THTTRSDAT  MORKING,
.A-t   Sank Centre,   Minn.,
BY J. H. & 8. SIMONTON.
US- Office corner Third and Seventh streets,
one block West of the Sauk Centre House.
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Special place advertisements Inserted at
rates agreed upon.   ■
Yearly advertisers to pay quarterly.
Strangers must pay in advance, or give satisfactory reference.
JOB PRINTING
of all kinds executed on short notice in the
best style.
PROFESSIONAL CARDS.
X, B". MINEB.
Mlimer4
H. WHEN.
& WremJ
Attorneys and Counselors at Law, Notaries
Public and Conveyancers,
Special attention given to proceedings in
Bankruptcy in the United States Courts.
Saute Centre,        - - Minnesota.
Office over the Post Office.
R. B. R. PALMER,
PHYSICIAN & SURGEON.
SB?- Residence near the Mill, Sauk Centre. ""©&
H. L. GOBDON.
L. W. COLLINS.
C ©llixis,
Gordon  <§c
Attorneys
St. Cloud, Stearns' County, Minnesota
Kff" Particular attention given to business
In adjoining counties.
ILLLAM J. PARSONS,
' ATTORNEY AT LAW,
Saint Germaine street, over Burbank Bros.,
St. Cloud, Minnesota.
R. T. SDSON,
1 Attorney at La war
Notary Fubliu.
E'Jteon ■
Office over'
:Uli
eitT
Htc
Business. Prop'
Fan ni n g"LaTP ts
■commission.
CHAS. WALKER,
1 Attorney at Law.
fc Walker,
Store on Third street,
Sbs aiTO. Lois, Farms,
, bought and sold on
kinu
called i
I fact that our facilities for Bia-
m-iptioii papers and lor locating
uiiil entering Government Land with Cash,
Karip or Land Warrants, are unsurpassed by
any offlce. west of St. Cloud. A large assortment of Town Plots for the use of seekers of
Claims oi) hand and kept constantly.sorrect-
•ed by correspondence with the Land Office.
"WeJjawe iri our hands for sale some of the
fluestEarms anil -Funning Lands in this
upper count jy.
-BUSINESS   CARDS.
MIN EH,,
i>in -Ihsth ■a.-£E,B2.e e - .A-gent,
Sank. Centre, - '-      -   -      Minnesota.'
iopresents' the soundest and most reliable
Fire,.. Life, and Accident Insurance Companies of the Eastern and "Western
Slates.   Office over the Post Office,
WARD DREBLOW,
OaTbisnct !M!sa.ls:ei*,
Main street, Sauk Centre, Minnesota.
Keeps constantly on hand a complete stock
of Furniture, Coffins, <fec.
All orders will receive prompt attention. "v
fXJLLIARD SALOON,
N4 A. DE GROAT, Proprietor.
Third street, Sauk Centre, Minnesota.
Has first class Phelan & Collender Billiardj
Tables.
Choice Wines, Liquors, Ale, Porter and,
Cigars.
w.
\d. WHITEFIELD,
TJP IN THE BARN.
Old Farmer Joe steps through the doors,
As wide to him as the gates of Thebes;
And thoughtful walks about the floors
Whereon are piled his winter stores,
And counts the profits of his glebes.
Ten tons of timothy up there,
And four of clover in the bay;
Red-top that's cut, well middling fair;
And bins of roots, oblong and square,
To help efcgjcmt the crops of hay.
A dozen hebS of cattle stand
Reflective in the leaf-strewn yard;
And stalks are stacked On every hand,
The latest offering of the land
To labor long maintained and hard.
Cart loads of pumpkins yonder He, ICY"'
The Horse is feeding in his stall.
The oats are bundled scaffold high,
And peas and-beans are heaped hard by,
As if there was some festival.
At length Old Farmer Joe sits down—
A patch across each of his knees;
He crowds his hat back on his crown,
Then clasps his hands so hard and brown,
And, like a farmer, takes his ease.
44 How fast the flying years do go!
It seems, in fact, but yesterday,
That In this very-barn we three—
David, Ezekiel and me—
Pitched in the summer loads of hay!
David—he. sallshis clipper now,
And 'Zeikle died in Mexico;
Some one must stay and drive the, plow,
Get up the horse and milk the cow.
And who, of course, but little Joe ?
I might have been—I can't tell what; .
• "Who knows about it till he tries ?
I might have settled in some spot
Where money is more easy got;
Perhaps beneath Pacific's skies.
I might have preached like Parson Jones;
Or got a living at the law;
I might have gone to Congress, sure;
I might have kept a Water Cure;
I might have gone and been—oh, psnaw!
Far better is it as it is,
"What future waits him no man knows;
What he "has got, that sure is his:
It makes no odds if stocks have riz,
Or politicians come to blows.
Content Is rich, and somethin' more,
• I think I've heard somebody say;
If it rains It's apt to pour;
And I am rich on the barn floor,
Where all is mine that I can raise.
I've plowed and.mowed this dear old farm,
Till not a rod but what I know;
I've kept the old folks snug and warm,
And lived without a twinge of harm,
I don't care how the storm may blow.
And on this same old farm I'll stay,
And raise my cattle and my corn;
Here shall these hairs turn wholly gray;
These feet shall never learn to stray;
But I will die where I was born."
And Farmer Joe pulled down his hat,
And stood upon his feet once more;
He would not argue after that,
But, like a born aristocrat,
Kept on his walk about the floor.
—[Thomas Dockland.
&
mt\
tottjj.
LUTE TAYLOR WRIXBTH   TO JOB
ELWBLI..
A Grand Letter   on Sundry Subjects.
Prbscott, September 12,1867.
Joe :—-Years ago,   not many in
•House &, fSigjzi l?aisiit<er,
raining, Glazing, Paper Hanging, &c, done
with neatness and on reasonable terms.
Work warranted equal In quality to that.
r rreed upon or no charges made. -Kg- Paint
K hop next door to Thomas & Co's.
Sauk Centre, Minn., June. 5,1867.
TOHN CHRISTGATJ,
'  Boot «Sc  Shoe Maker,
Main Street, Sauk Centre, Minn.,
A complete stock of Boots and Shoes kept
constantly on hand, and made to order on
short notice.   Good fits warranted.
Repairing promptly  done,  at reasonable
prices.  All kinds of Shoemaker's Tools for
sole.
LAND OFFICE & REAL ESTATE
AGENCY.
N. H.  Miner,     *
Lands  sold on commission.  Farms com-
fiosed of Prairie, Meadow and Timber Land
Br sale.
Persons desiring to enter Land, with Cash,
Scrip or  Land Warrants, or to file Pre-
Emption claims, can do so at my office
and avoid the time and expense of
a trip to St. Cloud.
•tOfSee over the Post Office, Sauk Centre,
Minnesota.
;T>    P. EDSON
S-Niijj,. Is Agent for sound and reliable
FIRE, LIFE, ACCIDENTAL .LIFE AND
'"LTy-B STOCK INSURANE COMPANIES.
•He insures Live Stoek against Death and
Theft, in the Hartford Live Stock Insurance
Company—the soundest ana only reliable
lose Stock Company on this continent.
Dear Joe :—-Years ago,
time, but ages in great events, just
when the storm-cloud of War had sent
a few great bloody drops to herald its
terrible coining, I, storm-stayed in a
little town in the far off East, wrote you
a long and friendly letter, full of the
dreams of the youthful hope, the am-''
bition of early manhood, and vague
phophecies of events to come. Years
later, when the battle-storm had passed—when the Draft, strong as Destiny
and terrible as Doom, no longer thrust
its insatiate hand into.trembling households—when Peace gilded with heavenly light the ruins grim'-visaged "War had
left—when the Good Cause had triumphed, : and the great Victory was
won, and you, wearing the honored
blue, had safely returned, and, leaving
the Star, whose light was replenished
[by your, -pen/you went to a wider field
of labor in that fair, .city which is the
pride of Western Wisconsin—then I
Wrote you again, of trials past, of burdens borne, of hopes whose fruition
seemed sure and near.
—To-day, Joe, I would write you
again, on lighter and pleasanter themes,]
and I write you for I know that your
■thoughts will run in sympathy with
mine, and though our friendship may
not be as fervent as of .old, it is none
the less faithful and firm. Time hides
Many things, Joe, and the feeling.whieh
leaped to tho lip in youth, in manhood
lies silent and strong in the heart. And
then, I may be garrulous, Joe, as
Thought and Memory pile the material
before me, and if, to any tired reader,
I grow tedious in length, or crude in
thought, or weak in expression, the remembrance that these words are written to you, and not to him, will nick
off the sharp edge of his critieism, and
shield me from Jhis reproof.
Ten Years ! Ten years is a long
time, Joe, in this hurrying, Western
life of ours. Ten years of hope and
fruition, ten years of thought and toil,
ten years of faithful endeavor and
crowned achievement, are more than
fall to the lot of most. It is now ten
years, and a trifle more, Joe, since you
lit the Star to guide your readers, and
I opened the Journal to record the
deeds of mine. I know that I can
judge your feelings by my own, and
that we turn over those early leaves
with mingled feelings of love, and of
Wonder at our boyish enthusiasm. How
paltry seem now the local strifes which
engaged all our energies then. And
those "leaders," written with such labor, revised with such care, and published with such pride—those "leaders" which we thought fortified by
logic, laden  with  truth   and  winged
with power—those " leaders" which
were to compel conviction, and win the
reader by irresistible force to our opin-j
ion—how dead and lifeless they look
now. We laugh at them now, Joe, as
no ekmbt our wiser readers did then,
and if occasionally we find in them a
feeling that is real, a thought that is
true, an argument that was based on
immutable principle, and so stands
firm to-day, we almost wonder at it,
and then fall to wondering whether
what we write now will look thin and
vapid to us by and by. After all, does
not the best editor make the most selections,. Joe ?
And this leads me to thinking, that
in those early days, you and I were political antagonists, and battled . each
other's heresies with all the power we
could put into type. But in the flaming crucible of war—-that crucible
which burned up prejudice and parti-
zanship and left only Patriotism unscathed—in the white heat of that trial
time when slavery, and caste, and compromise were burned together, and
from their ashes Freedom rose resplendent with holy light—in that time our
differences melted away, and to-day,
thank God, we are Radicals together.
A Radical 1 I like the word, Joe.
There is something inoisiveanddecided
about it. It rings out like a challenge.
It stirs the blood. It bodes disaster to
throned wrong, to antiquated opinions,
to bloodless and unrighteous law. It
enters the sepulchre of Truth as the
Angel entered the sepulchre of Christ—
it rolls away the stone and lets the
awakened and imprisoned thought go
free. Radicalism is not a mad destroyer, but a wise builder. It keeps even
step with the march of Mind and the
growth of Man. It weaves Beauty into
use, forms Justice into Law.
■ And in this conflict-of opinion between a wise radicalism and a blind adherence to an outgrown Past—between
the New, radiant and strong, and the
Old, darkened and dim with the mists
of error—in this conflict it is no mean
honor to bear a faithful part. The
sword is not as strong as speech, and
thought gains victories which force
could never win. In Homer's Epic, the
great Achilles is stronger with silver
tongue than his shining spear, and in
the grand verse of Milton, Satan towers
greater even in council than in war.
We are humble workers in the great
field, but it is just matter for pride to be
a Radical, and of pleasure so to write it
day by day.
But a truce to these themes, Joe,
upon which we write as a part of our
toil. Let us talk of something more
personal, perhaps more pleasant.
We have had many pleasant trips together, but none more so than that
ride on the locomotive from Milton to
Madison. The engineer, Mr. E. Thompson, of Madison, was courteous and
pleasant, the track was fine, the day
was perfect, the country beautiful; and
so, with the mild airs blowing around
us, we sped through the lovely land
like spirits through space. I know not
what you were thinking of, with your
hat drawn close to your eyes, but to me
it seeped as though we were goinS
through an enchanted land, as if the
ties that bound us to human interests
were sundered, and the slim rails
stretched out into infinitude, and the
sun would never set—and so we go on
and on, through an ever varying but
never ending panorama of beauty—an
eternal picture of peace.
Did you ever think, Joe, what a wonderful thing a locomotive is? What
power I What obedience 1 Terrible in
strength, it obeys the lightest touch of
its driver, and springs like lightning
from a cloud, or settles into calm repose
obedient to Ms will. As our driver
would take hie hand from the rein, and
turn to talk with us, I watched to see
the fiery courser elude his vigilance, and
spring unconvrolled away. But no I
Faithful to its task, it sped swiftly and
steadily on. Striking a line of perfect
track our driver asked :
" Would you like me to give her a
turn for a mile or two ?"
Of course we would.   A touch here
and there—Gogs ! how she flew I
" By Chaos! this is gallant sport
A league at s very breath."
Did I ever tel you, Joe, that I always
had a passion to be a railroad engineer ?
Like many other passions, it will probably never nndfulnllment, but I never
look except wife awe and admiration
on the quiet men who run the great
rushing trains. Did you ever see a great
Lightning Expwss rushing through the
darkness, makiig the dark night lurid
with its glare, aid the earth groan under its thunderiig tread,—did you ever
think of the immeasurable hopes, and
loves and interests, of the strong men,
the sweet Women\ and the little children, all dearer than, life to somebody,
and then think that the issue of life or
death for them ail -was in the eare of
that sleepless engineer, lis single hand
controlling the power, that, rushing
like an angry god to batte, dragged after it all that precious loarl of life ?
And danger will come. Every engineer expects it—meets it. There are supreme moments in his lfe when he
lives through an eternity of feeling.
No time for thought. Deafa to himself
and'to those in his charge,meets him
face to face and glares triumphantly in
his eye. But Death meets arisye steady-
as his own. The body is oi nerve;
thought is rapid as the will o\ God; the
steady hand obeys the impeious will;
the awful moment is passed; the train
is saved ; the hero is a man agin, master of the great throbbing moister beneath and before him, greater tian that
—master of himself. Such noments
come in the life of almost ever engineer.
—My pen is arrested, Joe, «nd my
thought involuntarily turns to another
theme.
As I wrote these closing words, a
friend of other days, but for whom
friendship is now shorn of respect, and
has only pity left, came to me and asked for a trifling sum to buy strong drink.
44 Oh! It was pitiful."
With a heart naturally noble, a mind
active and strong a gentleman, a ready
writer, a pleasant friend, he had gone
to disgrace with fearful rapidity; and
wrecked, broken, desolate and damned,
he plead for a pittance with which' to
buy another draught of forgetfulness,
delirium and death. I read too, to-day
of the miserable death of Ex-Senator
McDougal—the quenching of that
splendid intellect, which in his life was
strong enough to strike through the
foggiest fumes of Alcohol, and the brilliance of whose lustre put the most abstemious scholar to blush. O, the fatal
mastery of habit! It steals upon its
victim with noiseless tread and binds
him with chains softer than silk and
stronger than steel. Once in the charmed circle of its insiduous influence, and
the strong man is like sleeping Sampson in the lap of Delilah. He sleeps in
fancied security in the lap of Indulgence, Habit has stolen resolution from
his soul, and then awakes to a terrible
consciousness of his degredation, but
powerless to retrieve his lost estate. No
position or attainments are a safeguard
against tho wiles of habit, and intellect
of a lofty order seems rather to invite
than repel its destructive mastery. If
there is on earth a sight sadder and
more terrible than all else, it is to see
the liquor-charred] remnant of a once
great man, -groping in delirium in
death's dark door, with hell-born horrors peopling the brain where once
■Swelled pure affections and regal
thought.
—But let us turn from this picture of
perdition to one of peace. The sunlight lies lovingly on hillside and valley ; the forest, the lake and the river
jare rich in its golden light. The sum--
mer.has gone—the Autumn has come,
and the few first frosts which have
tinged the verdure with warning of
coming chills, are like the few light
hairs which are creeping into our own
locks of brown, the harbinger of- coming age.
The Autumn is the richest of all the
seasons. All others are but a preparation for this. This is the time of crowned achievements, of ripened fullness,
of perfected growth. And our own
lives, Joe, like the yew, are in their
fullness. Though young yet, we have
doubtless
" As far from childhood's morning come,
As to the graves forgetful night."
and in the descent, the years will surely
seem shorter than when we climbed up
on boyhood's side.
There are few things in life sadder to
see than a man who . has failed. Not
" failed" for lack of money, which may.
be won again, but Whose hope, and
courage and faith have failed, who sees
the prizes he has toiled for eluding his
grasp, the hopes he has cherished fading into nothingness, and thus nerveless and purposeless, drifting on the tide|
of life, driven by every wind, and buffeted by every wave. We have not failed,
Joe, for we have not played high stakes
in the game of life. We have not reached for the great prizes which Fame
holds glitteringly before restless Ambition's eager eyes.
We shall not reach for them now,
Joe, but cheerily go on like a mariner
on summer seas, and when the end
shall come, and the objects of life
44 Are taken from us by a little mist.
And all the world Is vanished"
we shall hope to .
 " reach the happy isles."'
 Trusting, dear Joe, that this letter may not be like the one Don Juan's
mother gave him,
14 Of good advice, (he never read it,)"-*• .
I am and hope for many years to be,
Yours, L. aA.. T.
THS   VOLUNTEER COUNSEL.
John Taylor was licenced,' When a
youth of twenty-one, to practice at the
bar. He was poor, but well educated,
and possessed extraordinary genius.
He married a beauty who afterwards
deserted him for another.
On the 9th of April, 1840, the court-,
house in Clarksville, Texas, was crowded to overflowing. An exciting case
was,to be tried. George Hopkins, a
wealthy planter, had offered a gross insult to Mary Ellison, the young and
beautiful wife of his overseer. The husband threatened to chastise him for the
outrage, when Hopkins went to Ellison's house and shot him in his door.
The murderer was arrested and bailed,
to answer the charge. This occurrence
produced great excitement, -and Hopkins in order to turn the tide of indignation had circulated reports against
her character, and she sued him for
slander. Both suits were pending—
for slander and murder.
The interest became deeper when it
was known that Ashley and Pike of
Arkansas, and S. S. Prentiss of New
Orleans, by enormous fees, had been
retained to defend Hopkins.
Hopkins was acquitted. The Texas
lawyers were overwhelmed by their opponents. It was a fight of a dwarf
against giants.
The slander suit was for the 9th, and
the throng .of spectators grew in numbers as in excitement. Public opinion
was setting in for Hopkins; his money
had procured witnesses who served his
powerful advocates. When the slander case was called, Mary Ellison was
left without an attorney—all had withdrawn.
" Have you no counsel ?"   inquired
Judge Mill,   looking   kindly on the
plaintiff.
" No sir; they have all deserted me,
and I am too poor to employ any
more," replied the beautiful Mary,
bursting into tears.
" In such a case, will not some chivalrous member of the profession volunteer?" said the Judge, glancing round
the bar.
The thirty lawyers were silent.
" I will, your honor," said a voice from
the thickest part of the crowd, behind
the bar.
At the sound of that voice many started—it was so unearthly, sweet and
mournful.
The first sensation was changed into
laughter when a tall, gaunt, spectral
figure elbowed his way through the
crowd, and placed himself within the
bar. His clothes looked so shabby that
the court hesitated to let the case proceed under his management.
" Has your name been entered on
the rolls of the State ?" demanded the
Judge.
"It is immaterial," answered the
stranger, his thin, bloodless lips curling up with a sneer. " Here is my license from the highest tribunal in
America!" and he handed the Judge a
broad parchment.
The trial went on.
He suffered the witnesses to tell their
own story, and he allowed the defence
to lead off. Ashley spoke first, follow
ed by Pike and Prentiss. The latter
brought the house down' ia cheers,
in which the jury joined.
It was now the Stranger's turn. He
rose before the bar, not behind it, and
so near the wondering jury that he
might touch his foreman with his long,
bony finger. He proceeded to tear to
pieces the arguments of Ashley which
melted away at his touch like frost before a sunbeam ; every one looked surprised. . Anon he came to the dazzling
wit of the poet lawyer Pike. Then the
curl of his lip grew sharper, his smooth
face began to kindle up, and his eyes
to open, dim and dreary no longer, but
vivid as lightning, red as fire globes,
and glaring as twin meteors. The
whole soul was in his eyes , the full
heart streamed out of the face. Then,1
without bestowing an allusion to Prentiss, he turned snort around on the perjured witnesses of Hopkins, tore their
testimony into threads, and-hurled in
their faces such terrible invectives that
all trembled like aspens, and two of
them fled from the court house. The
excitement of the crowd was becoming
tremenduous. Their united life ana?
soul seemed to hang upon the burning
tongue of the stranger, and he inspired
them with the power of his passions.
He seemed to have stolen nature's long
hidden secret of attraction. But his
greatest triumph was to come.
Hi a eyes began to glance at the assassin. Hopkins, as his lean taper finger
assumed the same direction. He hem-,
med the wretch with a wall of strong
evidence arid impregnable argument,
cutting off all hope of escape. He dug
beneath the murderer's feet ditches of
dilemma, and held up the slanderer to
the soorn and contempt of the populace.- Having thus girt him about with
a circle of fire, he stripped himself -to
the work of massacre.
Oh! then it was a vision both glorious
and dreadful to behold the orator. His
actions became as impetuous as the motion of an oak in a hurricane. His
voice became a trumpet filled with
whirlpools, deafening the ear with the
crashes of power, and yet intermingled
all the while with a sweet undersong of
the softest cadence. His forehead glowed like a. heated furnace, his countenance was haggard like that of a maniac, and ever and anon he flung his long
bony arms on high as if grasping after
thunderbolts.
He drew a picture of murder in such
appalling colors that in comparison,
hell itself might seem beautiful; he
painted the slanderer so black that the
sun seemed dark at noonday, when
shining on such a monster. And then,
fixing both portraits on the shrinking
Hopkins, , fastened them there forever.
The agitation of the audience amounted
almost to madness.
All at once the speaker descended
from the perilous height. His voice
wailed out for the murdered dead and
living—the beautiful Mary, more beautiful every moment as her tears flowed
faster—till .men wept and sobbed like
children.
He closed by a strange exhortation
to the jury; and through them to the
bystanders; he advised the panel after
they should bring in verdict for the
plaintiff, not to offer violence to the defendant, however richly he might deserve it; in other words not to lynch
the villain but leave his punishment
with God. This was the most artful
trick of all, best calculated to insure
vengeance.
The jury returned a verdict of fifty
thousand dollars ; and the night afterwards, Hopkins - was taken out of his
bed by lynchers and beaten, almost to
death. As the court adjourned the
stranger said:
" John Taylor will preach here this
evening at early candle light."
He did preach and the house was
crowded. I have listened to Clay, Webster and Calhoun—to Dwight, Bascom,
and Beecher—-but never heard anything in the form of sublime words,
even approximating, to. the eloquence
of John Taylor—massive as a mountain
and wildly rushing as a cataract of fire.
Who Is Sate ?—God has never created a mind yet, that can safely chal*
lenge combat with the appetite sof drink-
Earth has no ambition that is not engulfed, no hope which is not blasted,
no tie which is not broxen, no sanctuary which is not invaded, no friend, no
kinsman, brother, wife or child that is
not forgotten, no fibre of human agony
which is not wrung I Minds of common
mould will go through life without excess, while those gifted with God-like
powers are smitten with weakness.
The, gifted author of Childe Harold
walked in fetters, and died at Misso-
longhi of a drunken debauch. He who
had led the prosecution in the British
Parliament against Has tins was hurried to the grave to escape the clutch
of his landlords. Poor Charley Fox!
And the author of Gertrude of Wyoming died a driveling imbecile. How
the " Gentle Elia" wept over the habit
that enthralled him ! Ah, how these
tragedies of human individual history
—of temptation and fall—stalk before
us 1 The history of the best minds of
our land is darkened by these episodes
of weakness and ruin.
Angry Letters.—An angry letter, especially if the writer be well loved, is
much fiercer than any angry speeeh, so
much more' unendurable I There the
words remain scorching, not to be explained away, not to he atoned for by a
kiss—not to be softened down by the
word of love that may follow so quickly
upon spoken anger. Heaven defend
me from angry letters; they should
never be written except to schoolboys
or men at college, and not often to
them, if they be any way tender-hearted ; this, at least should be a rule
through the letter-writing world that
no angry letter be posted, till twenty
four-hours shall have elapsed since it
was written. We all know how absurd
is that other rule, that of saying the alphabet when you are angry. Trash!
Sit down and write your letter; write
it with all the venom in your power ;
spit out the spleen at the fullest; it
will do you good; you think yon have
been injured; say all that you can say
with all your poisoned eloquence, and
gratify yourself by reading it while your
temper i's hot. Then put it in your
desk; and, as a matter of course, burn
it before breakfast the next morning.
Believe me, that you will then have a
double satisfaction.
A man who won a fat turkey at a
raffle, and whose pious wife was
very inquisitive about the method of
obtaining the poultry, satisfied her
by" the remark that the "ShaKers" gave
itto him.
How to Propose—A party of ladies
and gentlemen were laughing over the
supposed awkwardness attending a declaration of love, when a gentleman remarked that, whenever he offered himself, he would do it in a collected and
business like manner.
" For instance," he -continued addressing a young lady present, " Miss
Smith, I have been two years looking
for a wife. I am in receipt of three
thousand dollars a year, which is on
the increase. Of all the ladies of my
acquaintance, I admire you the most";
indeed, I love you, and would gladly
maKe you my wife."
" Ycuflatte.i me by your preference,"
good humoredly responded Miss Smith,
to the surprise of all present, "I refer
you to my father."
" Bravo 1" exclaimed the gentleman.
" Well I declare 1" said the ladies in
a" chorus^ f
The lady and gentleman, -good reader, were married soon after. Wasn't
that a modest way of " coming to the
point," and ladyKxe method of taxing
a man at his word? .r-o**i *tn.
Josh Billings on Prayeri"-
From too many friends, and from
things at loose ends, good Lord deliv er
us.
' From a wife that don't love us, and
from children that dont look like us,
good Lord deliver us.
From snakes in. the grass, from
snakes in our boots, from torchlight-
processions; and from new rum, good
Lord deliver us. •
From pack peddlers, from young
folks in love, from old aunts without
money, and kolera morbus, good Lord
deliver us.
From wealth without charity, from
praise without sense, from pedigrees
worn out,-; from poor relations, good
Lord deliver us.
From newspaper sells, from pills that
aint physic, from females that paint,
and from men that flatter, good Lord
deliver us.
From gals that chaw gum and wears
dirty petticoats, and from men who
don't love babies, good Lord deliver
us.
From virtue without flagranpe, from
butter that smells, from nigger camp-
meetings, from cats that are courting,
good Lord deliver us.
From other mix's secrets, and from
our fro mormon's and megums, and
women's committees, good Lord deliver us.
From politicians that pray, and from
saints that tipple, red herring, and all
grass widows, good Lord deliver us.
A lady fell into.a river, and a poor
hoy rescued her. When she was safe,
her husband handed the brave fellow
a shilling. Upon one of the bystanders
expressing indignation, the latter said,
as he pocketed the coin : ■ Well, don't
blanie-the gentleman, he knows best;
mayhap if I hadn't saved her he'd have
given me a sovereign."
Were we to ask a hundred men, who
from small beginnings have attained a
condition'of respectability and influence, to what they imputed their sue- -
cess in life, the general answer would
be, " It was from being early compelled
to think for and depend on ourselves.