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About The farmers' alliance. (Lincoln, Nebraska) 1889-1892 | View Entire Issue (Sept. 20, 1890)
fiYt fliiWlfl w if LINCOLN, NEBRASKA, SATURDAY, SEPT. 20, 1890. NO. 14. VOL. II. i V "7' ijMfrqigy V A- 5 Notice to Subscribers. EXPIRATIONS. Aa the easiest and cheapest means of notl- Srlnir subscribers of the date of their explra ons we will mark this Dotlce with a blue or redpencll.on the date at which their subscrip tion expires. We will send the paper two weeks after ezpiratien. If not renewed by that time it wlUbe discontinued. POETRY. Written for The Farmers' Alliance. The Cry of the Laborer. There's a cry that is heard in the land today, From a thousand defrauded homes, From toilers who labor and wait and pray For the blessing: that never comes. Ther have labored long with manly will, They have nobly and faithfully wrought, But their wages have been kept by fraud; They haye reaped in the fields for naught. There are homes where the sunlight never comes, Where squalor and filth abound, Where vice runs rampant and pestilence breeds, And comfort is nowhere found. The homes where the ill-paid sons of toil Drag out a hopeless life, Where labor can hardly buy the bread For the suffering child and wife. O why should labor be clothed in rags, And why should his hearth grow cold, While idleness revels in luxury, And treasures its hoarded gold. And why is bread so hard to find? Is God's providence so small? Has not the Infinite lather above Provided enough for all? There are fields that are rich with nature's wealth Of ripening harvests white, Where loaded orchards and waving corn Fill the heart with keen delight. And the heart of the farmer swells with pride As he views his fruitful fields; And he thanka the Lord for the fertile soil, And the bounteous harvest it yields. But tears are mingled with his joj. And sighs with his thoughful prayers, And his weary spirit oft sinks down With the weight of the burden he bears. The farm is mortgaged and money scarce, And debts are so hard to pay, That he fears that his lovely' home must go, At no far distant day. For alas! monopoly holds him fast With a grip like bands of steel. And usury stands like a monster grim, And grinds him under its heel. And the bread that should bless the abode of want, And feed the toilers there, Is lost in the wasteful and riotous sport Of some gambling millionaire. Oh! ye that fatten in luxury's stalls, And smile at poverty's cry; Hew little ye care for the sons of toil, Whether they live or die. But think not the time of your triumph shall last, Or the people forevei be dumb, For the God of Heaven has heard the cry, And the day of your judgment has come. And the cry that is heard from far and near, O'er the length ana breadth of the land, May be but a murmurirg wail to-day, But to-morrow 'twill be a command. And the "lie of caste" that has lived so long, That cursing with'ring blight, Shall fall to earth in the onward march Of justice and truth and right. The people shall rise with resistless power, And every oppressor shall fall. For truth is eternal, and God is ju6t, L2And ruleth over all. Arthur L. Kellogg HARLAN CHAWING UP McKEI- GHAN. The Phelps county Herald gives a very vivid account of the debate be tween Harlan and McKeighan at Hold rege on Sept. 10th. After its account of McKeighan's speech, and after saying that Mr. Harlan devoted all his time to the railroad question and his own rec ord, it says: " The people have no quarrel with him (Harlan) on Ihe railroad issue, but there are other issues besides that, and Mr. Harlan failed to touch any one of them. The people expected him to meet and debate against Mr. McKeighan on the issues of the day, but he failed to do anything of the kind. He did not take up a single one of the great ques tions presented by the people's candi date. The fact is, there was no debate whatever. Mr. Harlan may be as hon est as the day is long. Personally he may be as fine a man as there is in the state, but his speech at Holdrege dem onstrated beyond the shadow of a doubt that he possesses no ability whatever as a public speaker or debater. His speech was a complete, collossal and miserable failure. He did not rnake a"single point during the entire hour and a quarter that he spoke. Not a word of applause did he receive in the whole time. He repeated, went over the same ground again and again. He was indeed a pitable object to occupy the same stand with such superb and splendid speakers as McKeighan and Edgerton. Mr. Har lan did not touch a single national is sue upon which he might be called to exercise his judgment did he stand any show of election to congress, but con fined himself entirely to his own record, which no onelemanded of him. Hund reds of people who listened to the debate can testify that what we have stated above is not political buncombe but straight facts. When McKeighan arose to reply he was met with a terifiic and mighty shout of applause, and for some moments he could not proceed, but when his fifteen minutes were up the political corpse of N. V. Harlan was buried decently and deeply out ot sight. McKeighan and Edgerton. . - The Holdrege Progress, in its report of the great "meeting at Holdrege, says How any candid man can listen to the disoassioned logic of Judge Mc Keighan and then believe the malicious thrusts or monopoly organs ana subsi dized newspapers, is not to be under stood, and we do not believe an urn biased, mind will do so . Mr. Edgerton is a man oi superior intellect, a warm heart and a keen ob server. He talks fluently but with earnestness, and is withal very unas suming and commonplace. The agri cultural voter could see and hear for himself that McKeighan and Edgerton were men from the ranks of the people, by the people, for the people and with the people. IN IRELAND. Dlggfnff Turf for Fuel and Ca-rylng It t the Market. In the county of Kerry in Ireland a man pays "2b cents to the landlord for the privilege of cutting a strip of turf nine feet long, three feet wide and' from six to nine feet in depth, says a letter from the Green isle. He cuts the turf in the summer months, so that it will dry during the hot weather. It is cut with a narrow spade, called in Gaelic a "slan." When cut the turf is piled in little heaps so that the moist ure will evaporate. These heaps of turf have to be turned usually three times before the fuel is dry enough to be carted away and piled into ricks. As a rule, after drying, the turf must be carted from four to six miles to the home of the peasant. This is done with the aid of donkeys and horses. If the peasant happens to be a speculator, he carts the turf into' Tralee or some other, market town and sells it. Turf is measured by what are technically called "rails." This word indicates a donkey or horse load. The load is held in place on the cart by means of wooden frames set into mortises on the sides and ends of the cart. The turf is piled to a cone on top of the cart, and held in place by "sugganns." Asuggann is a rope made of straw. These ropes are also used in some parts of Ireland to hold the thatch in place. It is interesting to watch the process of straw-rope making. One man sits on the floor of a cottage with several bundles of straw by his side. He picks up a good-sized wisp of straw and makes a loop by bending it in the middle. This loop he hitches over the end of a piece of hawthorn shaped like a fish-hook and with a shank six feet long. A piece of string is tied across from the barb of the hook to the shank, and in the corner thus made near the barb the loop of straw is hitched. Another man holds the end of the hawthorn stick. Mean while the man who is seated keeps twisting in more straw. In the course of five minutes a suggann thirty feet long is thus made. As the market is always from four to tn miles distant the cart is loaded the evening previous to the journey. The start is made very early in the morning. This is particularly needful in the case of the donkey, us his ut most speed is three miles an hour. There is no pressing need to be at the market before 12 o'clock, as in the smaller Irish tow,ns very little business is transacted before that hour. Occa sionally the peasant indulges in tricks when loading his cart, lie corncobs his load in the middle, so that while on the outside it looks to be a good, solid load, on the inside good many vacant spaces, the cart is driven by the peasant or his daughter, pens to be the daughter there are a Sometimes wife of the If it hap- she almost invariablv ties up her shoe3 and stock- ings in a piece or paper,, ana niaes tno bundle until within a mile of the mar ket town, when she stops the donkey, sits on a stone by the roadside, and puts on her shoes and stockings. On the homeward journey, after having disposed of the load and walked around the town with the proud consciousness of being the owner and wearer of a pair of shoes, she takes off her shoes and stockings again and walks home barefooted, as she came. A story is told in Tralee to the effect that after a colleen had removed her shoes on the way homeward she stubbed her toe. As she sat by the roadside cry ing from pain and trying to stanch the flow of blood, she exclaimed: "Ain't it luck' I didn't have on me shoes. Shure the'' d be bruk intirely wid that welt!" Big Timber in the Northwest. Capt. E. Farnham. the pioneer lum berman, speaking of big timber, said: I think the biggest stick of timber ever cut on Puget bound was gotten out at the Port Gamble mill ten years ago. It was 140 feet in length and 3G x30 inches square. It was shipped to China, where it was cut up into spans for bridges. I was on board the vessel on which it was shipped. The timber protruded over both the bow and stern. "What was the idea in shipping such a stick?" "Just simply to have the name of 3utting the largest stick ever . got out on Puget Sound." "What is the largest stick of timber that you have ever seen?" "That one was. At the World's air in London I had dinner in a house made from the bark of a redwood tree, which was cut in California. The house was two stories in height, and was eighteen feet in diameter in the up per story." "How large a stick do you think could be cut on Puget Sound?" "I think that it might be possible to get out one perhaps 180 feet long and 80x80 inches square at the small end. buch a stick couia not be lound near the coast, however. One would have to go into the interior for it. A great deal of care would have to be exercised in cutting it, to prevent its breaking when it fell. If such a stick were cut I have no doubt it would be the largest stick of timber ever cut in the world." The largest tree in the world is in Mariposa, California. It is called the Father of the Forest, and is 450 feet in height. It is a fallen monarch, how ever, and it would be impossible to cut a stick of timber 150 feet in length from it, as it is partially decayed. Seattle tress. IN THE WILDERNESS. Grant and Lee have had their first itruggle in the Wilderness, as the former seeks a new road to Richmond. Atsidst dense thickets, in lonely fields, Uong narrow highways, in the somber forests, a hundred thousand men have fought backwards and forwards, from sun to sun, and now the night has come to shift the scene. There are 8,000 men lying dead on this battle ground. There are thousands more lying wounded, parcning witn thirst, crying out in their agony. Lee still blocks the road, but no sooner has the sun gone down than Grant begins a move- . i 1 1 a i t - i T i meal uy me leis nan& to pass mm. i yon can not cross a swamp you must pass aronnd it. My division is one left between the two armies to hide this movement. When morning comeg we shall be far in the rear. The ground where we rest is broken. There is forest and thicket a narrow highway a creek two or three small farms, with their buildings filled with wound ed men. Fifty rods in front of , a log .house is our picket line. It skirts the cleared land and runs away into the darker woods on a straight line. The neutral ground between us and the enemy is in a strip not over forty rods wide. At 10 o'clock on this night, when the confusion and turmoil have grown quiet, but while lanterns flash here and there through the woods, as .men search for the wounded, I am left on "post No. 7" for the coming two hours. My place is under a pine tree which stands in the cleared ground, and all along the front is the dark forest so dark that a white horse might stand within a hundred feet of me and escape observation. It is a starlight night, but clouds are drifting across the sky and the wind comes in that gusty way which warns you that a storm is brewing at a dis tance. For an hour there is no alarm. Grant is moving by the flank. Lee is moving to check-mate him. Grant has left a line to mask his movement. Lee has left a line to mask his. It has been long terrible day. Darkness brings a respite grateful for all. We have vir tually said to each other over the neutral ground: "Let us alone and we won't disturb you?" At 11 o'clock a noise in the dark woods in front sends my blood leaping. It was the noise of footsteps breaking dry twigs. There are wounded horses wandering about, but this was not the footstep of a horse. Wounded men may be seeking our lints, but I listen vain to catch a groan or a low call of distress. "Step! Step! Step!" The sound is on my left front. Some one is moving to get the shelter of the dark spot directly opposite. He is mov ing carefully, but I can follow every foot of progress. "Step! Step! (Halt!) Step! Step!" (Silence!) Is it a ghoul seeking out the dead and wounded to rob them? Is it a picket from the other line seeking to locate our posts and report how far away we are? Is it some human devil seeking to dabble his hands in blood after the horrors of the day? Men who had brothers or friends killed in battle by daylight sometimes swore fearful vengeance and went out upon tne bloody field at night to secure it. "Rustle! Step! (Halt!) Step! Step!" (Coming closer.) If I raise an alarm here it will go up and down the line and arouse a. thousand men in a moment. If I let this unknown approach me I may be assassinated. He can not see me in this gloom, but he is slowly approach ing iu a direct line. ; 'Halt! Who goes there?" Deep silence. If he was a straggler from our lines or a wounaea man ne wouia maite answer. "Step! Step!" And now I hear him sink dowu to the earth. "Who goes there?" Silence. "Who goes there?" Silence. I am waiting with musket raised, and finger on the trigger. I have given fair warning. Jbriend could ask nc more, and an eneny must realize his danger. As I wait something makes a blot on the darkness. It is only a few ieet away, and I fire point-blank. There is one long, shrill scream of agony, and I hear a body fall to the earth, and then there is deep silence for a moment. "What is itP" asks the corporal oi the guard as he hurries up from there- ferve stationed scarcely a hundred feet n the rear. "There I've shot some one!" The alarm runs up and down the lines to die awav after five minutes, and then we advance to the object. The corporal is there first. He reaches out to touoh it, draws back in alarm, and gasps: "Great heavens, but you have Shot a woman!" It was true. Some poor soul, crazed by the terrible sounds of battle driven from her humble home hiding in some thicket until darkness came. Then, dumb as the trees around her, but guided by instinct, she sought to make her way back to the house nc doubt the very hut filled with oui wounded and suffering men. And she was dead at my feet dead of my own bullet. M. quad, of Detroit Free Press. "Hurrah." "What was the origin of the ex clamation "hurrah P" There are few words still in use which can boast suoh a remote and widely extended preva- ence as this. It is one of those inter actions inwhioh sound so echoes sense hat men seem to have adopted it al most instinctively. In India and Cey lon the mahouts and attendants of bag gage elephants oheer them along by a perpetual repetition of "Hur-re-rel Hur-re-rel1, The Arabs and camel drivers in Turkey, Palestine, and Egpyt encourage their animals to speed br shouting "Ar-re, ar-re!" The Moors In 8pain drive their mules and horses with cries of "Arrel" in France the sportsman excites his hounds by his shouts of "Har-re, h ar-re!' ' The herdsmen of Ireland and Scotland shout "Hurrish! Hurrish!" to the stock they are driving. It is evident an ex clamation common to many notions. and is probably a corruption of "Tur- aiel" (Thor rid) a battle cry of the ancient Norseman, who called upon Thor, the god of thunder, to aid them in their strifes. An Anti-Chinese Decision. Judge Willis Sweet, in the District court at Mount Idaho, Idaho, has de cided that Chinese have no right what ever on mining lands in the United States, and that a lease of mining ground to them is invalid, and amounts to an abandonment of a claim. Meas ures will new be taken, if an appeal is not allowed to oust all Chinese miners in the territory. The deoision is far- reaching, and will lead to the abandon ment of maoh ground by the Chi nese. , One hundred and fifty-two million cork-screws ate made yearly in New fwsejr. "Thy Kingdom Come." Tune Nearer to Thee. Thy kingdom come, O Lord, ; Thy will be done On earth as 'tis in heaven ly will be done; Give peace good will to men Robbers will vanish then No trusts will flourish when Ihj will ia done . Up in that world above, Thy will is done; Each heart is filled with love Thy will is done; There lives no millionaire, But each thy bounties share No usury slaves are where Thy will is done. None live and others toil Thy will is done; None starve while food does spoil . Thy wlllis done. No laws make rich and poor, None special rights secure Where laws are just and pure Thy will is done. To haste that arlorioiss day Make thy will done, Will work and vote and pray Thy kingdom come; Old party ties are riven To gain foretaste of heaven, No special favors given, But thy will done. ! Mrs. J. T- Keixie. "Alliance Money Ideas." Omaha, Sept. 5. To the Editor of the World-Gerald. . As one of the " old timers" in the movement I wish to thank you for publishing as yon have in yesterday's morning paper, under the head of "Alliance Money Ideas," the rapidly being acknowledged fact that " the average farmer talks and thinks iar more intelligently on the money question, the tarin question and the transportation question than the aver age citT man." And you also say truly tnat it is "grim necessity" in the pro tection of home and self from the many political crimes enacted in behalf of these interests which has forced him to thus inform himself and to "ferritout the criminals." I don't think there is a particle of doubt as to the truth of this statement. And it is because of this " superior in telligence and investigation of these subjects," and the records of the old parties with reference to them, that the Alliance or independent party has placed the " money question " as the first and most important political de mahd for the righting of the people's wrongs. Also why so many are inclined to say "Rats "and " Come off" to the tariff tinkers and free traders when it is well known they are trying so desper ately to force the " old chestnut " to the front for the purpose of distracting the people and switching them off from the real cause of depression. lhese " intelligent farmers" under stand very well how this tariff question is a two edged sword so long as the United States adheres to the metallic or commodity system, and they are so heavily in debt. And that any tinker ing or lowering of import duties, which will permit ot an influx of foreign man ufactures or oproducts, as o would turn the balance of trade against us. This would cause a deportation of gold our commodity money and a conse quent shrinkage of all prices to the in jury of property owners and ruin of those heavily in debt. These "intelligent farmers" also un derstand, as should the "working man" and the "city man," that the axiomatic law of metallic or commodity money, with free trade, is to flow from that country where prices and conditions are best and to that country where prices are lowest and the conditions of the working masses is hardest, until a com mon level is reached. Hence the pro tective principle of the tariff is a neces sity of the metallic system of money, and can never, without ruin, be consid ered as a means of "revenue only." Of course any inequalities where an in dustry well established is unduly pro tected it is understood should be ad justed in favor of the "infant indus tries," so called, or placed more upon luxuries and less upon necessities. But when the "adjusting" business is under taken it is found, as General Hancock said when he was democratic candidate for president, "The tariff is a local question." And judging from the ac tion of our senatorial patriots as they wrestle with the different schedules of the McKinley bill now before them, and one by one convictions as to the nation al policy of a tariff, both for protection and lor "revenue only," are being sur rendered by these senators in favor of the several local or state industries, I guess General Hancock was about right, and it will take a heap oi "adjusting" to suit everybody. As to the national policy of protec tion, the essential principle is not so much one of fostering particular indus tries, which can never be done except at the expense of others, and which will truly in the adjustment give it a local tendency and interest, as it is one (a necessary evil; for protecting the bal ance of trade and which must be en dured so long as the United States re tains the present barbaric system of money. Therefore the tariff question is much more of a money question. That the tendency is to a rapid con centration of all wealth into few hands and a consequent impoverishment of the many is patent to all men. That in the production of the 7,000 or 8,000 millionaires in this country, which we have made since say 1862, per contra we have had to make 1,000,000 or 2,000,000 oi "tramps," so called. Add an alarm ing number to the list of tenants at will, both on the farms and in the cities; multiply indefinitely the army of wage workers, and to intensify the struggle f )r existence among all these classes fire facts equally apparent. And in all seriousness I ask the World-Herald and "tariff boomers" of whatever degree to say what proportion and to consider what an insignificant number of these dangerous fortunes the tariff is in any way responsible for. To what extent has the tariff assisted in the accumula tion of . Vanderbilt's hundreds of mil lions, Astor's millions, Gould's millions, "Old Hutch's" millions, etc., etc. Have not the machinations of Wall street sharks in controlling the treasury; in the manipulation and contraction of the money volume, speculation in bonds; in funding schemes; in demonetizing suver; gamDung in stocks, etc., made hundreds of these millionaires where the tariff has made one. Also the boards of trade (!) dens of gamblers in the necessaries of life operating in our nundred3 of cities, assistea oy special rates and rebates on the part ot trans- Eortation companies, have made other undreds of these millionaires. And do not charge these robberies to the high or protective tariff, for all of these schemes of spoliation exist and flourish in most civilized (?) countries, just the ! same and under all degrees of tariff. Tt makes us tired, this tariff, tariff, which filches nickels, while the money question and usury is robbing us of our farms, our homes, our opportunities; except to compete in the desperate struggle as wage workers. The Alliance-inaepenaents are in earnest in this movement, iiow is it with the World-Herali? And why should the voters be divided run off onto "chestnuttv" and side issues or into a political party which has unfortunately on this money question both a head (Cleveland and Wall street) and a tall (Bryan and Thompson), with a query as to which will wag the other. Respect fully and truly, JOHN JEFFCOAT. Plutocracy and the Proletaire. We have reached a period in our ex istence as a nation when we should pause for a moment and take a retro spective view of the path we have trav eled for a century. If we look beneath the surface we shall see that the nation al highway is strewn with broken hearts, skeletons of men and women who felt the pangs of unrequited toil, broken promises and shadows where the substance of manly independence should be enthroned. , We shall see a handful of men sitting in judgment on the national life, defying God and nature in hiding away the bounties of the latter, and in assuming to glorify the former while robbing the weakest of His flook. We shall hear Christian ministers preaching to the few who bribed them to extol the virtues of mammon, while the bulk of the congre gation stand on the outside, not daring to enter lest indignation prompt them to cry out against the false doctrine that is proclaimed instead of the word of God. "Servants, obey your masters," is dinned into the ears of the children of men who acknowledge no master save the eternal God. Grain, coal, oil everything is gath ered in from the hands of producers and piled in the centre of the table while gamesters cast the dice or shuffle cards to indicate which shall win. Millions stand outside shivering and starving while the game progresses. At the first murmur of discontent the offender is dismissed without a reason, and is told, as the parting kick is ad ministered: "It is nobody's business but ours why you are discharged; you need not know, for you have no wealth and do not count in the social or politi cal world." A strike takes place, and at once the principle is lost sight of. Commercial ism dictates editorials and prompts ver dicts. The questions are not, Does manhood suffer? Is principle outraged? Are rights trampled upon? But, How many cars ot beef are lost? nave stocKS depreciated? Are our incomes threat ened? Men organize and attempt to win legislation; they are discharged for drunkenness and insubordination. 10 attempt to shape statutes is treason to mammon and an insult to the power that now rules legislatures and congress. Corporations slride over the necks of the people while the chosen servants of the people close their eyes to the piteous spectacle, and indulge in drunk en brawls on the floors of our national legislature. Having seen this thing we ask, What is to be done? The answer comes: Make no law, grant no charter, frame no statute, until equitable provisions are made therein for both capital and labor. The warrant to act in a corporate . capacity should also command that labor should receive the same consideration as cap ital. We know that the present system is wrong. No , one defends it; those whom it serves dare not praise it. . It was John Boyle O'Reilly who said: "Tatce need or your civilization, ye, en your pyramids built of Quivering1 hearts; There are stages like Paris in '93 where the commonest men played terrible parts. Your statutes may crush, but they cannot kill the patient sense of a natural rijrht: It may slowly move, but the people's will, like the ocean o er Holland, is always in sight. 'Tis not our fault. say the rich ones. No. tie tne tauit of a system eld and stronar: But men are the makers of systems; so the cure will come, if we own the wrong." T. V. POWDERLY. A Story of Wendell Phillips. Mr. Purvis told a good and charac teristic story of the late Wendell Phil lips, who fought side by side with him during the battle for emancipation One day he arose to address a meeting that was more than usually hostile to the abolitionists and had howled down and insulted several previous sneakers. Mr Phillips wralked to the front of the platform, and, scanning the angry faces in iront of him with a keen and fear less eye, began: "You scoundrels! Instantly there was a storm of angry howls and curses, biit when they ceased he repeated in a louder voice: "You scoundrels!" Again the storm rose and again he repeated the term. The fourth time the American admiration for fearlessness and fair play asserted itself, and the balance of his speech was listened to in silence and respect. Another time Mr. Philips was in a rail way car in which were a number of ministers returning from a convention. Among the number was a man with s loud, strident yoice, who was loudly de claiming against the abolitionists, and especially against Mr. Phillips.. He was talking at every one in the car, and finally shouted that he understood that Mr. Phillips was on board. . Call ing the conductor he asked him to point out Mr. rhillips. Ihe conductor indi cated the orator, who had been a quiet and interested listener. The little man with the voice strode up the aisle to a disrespectful distance, and after striking an attitude, the fol lowing colloquy took place: 'So you are Wendell Phillips ?" "I am, sir," replied the orator, quietly. "Then why don't you go south and preach your doctrine there?" shouted the little minister. "At that time," explained Mr. Purvis in relating the incident, "any abolition ist would, have been lynched in the south." Replying to the clergyman, Mr. Phil lips as&ea: "You are a minister of the gospel?" "I am. sir." "Your mission is to save souls from hell?" "It is, sir." Then why don't you go there, sir? DIARY OF MARIE BACKBAYSHlrT. A Blue-blooded Iloston Girl Who X ttU Type of the Age. Ah, 'mon Dieul Fifteen years old to-day. and not one affaire du cceur to look back on nion Dieu! I will be loved! I am young! I am beautiful! I am svelte! I am chic! (Smashes a chair.) Ah, mon Dieu! but I will be loved! ' Tuesday Yesterday, after my ebul lition of passion, during which I looked very handsome (my eyes flashed and my beautiful nostrils dilated), I dressed myself carefully in my purple moire antique, with the green ribbons, let ting my stockings fall a little loosely about my ankles, and thrusting a large yellow jonquil in my belt, I tripped lightly down the stairs, sing ing as I went, that little chanson: Oh, to feel the breath That comes throuarh i To lean my head ou a manly breast Without being considered rash. My voice is a beautiful one. Would n't I like to sing in Music Hall, and raise the roof, and make Patti tear her imperial dyed hair with rage. Ah, mon Dieu! (The reason I say mon Dieu so much is because I had a French governess. Oh. she was une mignonne a corker! She taught me to roll cigarettes and read Zola. Ah, friend of my infancy, in what paths do your tender feet wanderP Art thou listen ing to seraphic music in the heavenly spheres or wandering on the dull orbP She ran off with a herdio ' driver. I could have killed him.) Still singing, I slipped into the draw ing-room, where I knew a man from some dry goods establishment was put ting up curtains. I went swiftly over to the step-ladder on which he stood. He was beautiful. His hair, of a rich, deep red, was dressed pompadour, and his " nose was' Roman. Oh, Rome! Rome! goal of my 'oung infancy, even a nose will turn my thoughts to thee. (If I do not succeed in music I shall go to Rome and study art! Ah, mon Dieu! Glorious, heavenly art! Art can not exist without artists, and artists are usually men! Oh. art, beautiful art!) But the man on the ladder. I turned an arcn iook upon him (l am always arch), and said in a low trem bling voice: "Did it rain when you came in?" Not much, miss," said he. fgh! howl hate that word "Miss'' so bourgeously, so sou-endy. I shook the ladder with rage. He lost his bal ance, and 1 caught him by the arm. not so much to save him as to feel his manly breath on rav cheek. Ah, mon Dieu, for one instant I was delirious with happiness. "Liook here, young woman, er and your eager ' "liut 1 love you, adore you," I cried: and with that he picked up his leather apron and hat, and ran quickly from the room. Poor boy, how he loved me! He was pale with passion, but 1 no longer love him; tire of him. Alas! ho loved me too well, and no man shall ever kiss me! I swear it. Mon Dieu! Ah, love, love, when shall I find love? Wednesday I have been reading "The Quick or the Dead." "Thou Shalt Not," and "The Evil That Men Do." Ah, what grand thoughts are in them, mon Dieu! Thursday I wanted a sweet brace let that I saw down at Bogigan's this morning. Another girl bought it be fore 1 could get home and ask mam ma. I threw an inlaid table straight through the plate glass window and put my foot through a showcase. Why not be frank and candid, mon Dieu, and act as 'you feelP Inday Ah, but I am cruell I feel 1 have no heart, and can never know a grande passion. To-day I met a hand somo man at 6 o clock tea. l deftly stood in front of him for one hour, and kept him from talking to anvone else I was brilliant iu conversation, ris que! brusque! I said: "You are a naughty man." "How so, Miss BackbayshiftP" "Oh, I know you are." But M 'You want to flirt with me. I know yon do. Don't you try to squeeze my hand." "Tlnf T nacnrn Tmii "But you may. Here it is. Nobody is looking. You may kiss it if you like." "But I do not like, Miss Backbay shift. I haven't any desire to kiss your hand, and you are a great bore. If you will kindly let me get away from you " I threw my cup of chocolate in his face and let him go. The man is mad to love me so passionately. Why, why can l never reciprocate lover Ah, mon Dieu! Saturday I have been to the Sym phony concert. I cast burning glances St all the orchestra, and smiled in sub- tmsaive style. None of them looked at me. Ihey do not yet appreciate my style; l am not like other girls. There was one silly young thing in front of me who got a smile from one of the violins. I promptly ran the whole length of my hat pin into her back! Ceil! Then I went home, and, after taking a hot bath, stood at the open winnow ior an hour with only a pon gee wrapper on. Mon Dieu! If I can't attract attention any other way. i ll die young. Sunday Tried to get the minister to waiK nome witn me. lie went to see a sick boy instead. Ugh! I have taken a box of liver pills and ate Welsh rare bit. X will be sick, and he shall come to see me. Mon Dieu! Boston Saiur- urday Evening Gazette. Badly Rattled. 'I was wounded three times dnrins the war," said Maj. L. with a merry twinkle in bis hne brown eye "one fatally, but you see I am still an ' in habitant of this beautiful earth." "Perhaps," suggested one of hi listeners a N. Y. Tribune man you were like the man of whom the country newspaper man wrote: "The ball en- tered his left side, inflicting a mortal wound. With good care he will be able to pull through all right.'" "That's lust where the bait did en ter," replied the grizzled veteran cheerfully. "I was in the Shenandoab valley with Sheridan and we wers having a lively time of it, a regulai hare-and-hounds race all the time, il seemed. We were chasing Mr. Johnny Rebel ont of the country and in on oi our charges 1 suddenly stopped short, feeling as if a red -hot sword had bees thrust through me. I was wounded, badly, too. The ball had entered mj side and had passed clean through mj body, leaving a fierce burning trail. "Well I said to myself. Abe this time you are a dead man. Nc man can live when a bullet has plowed it's way through his vitals.' "I staggered out of line. The fight ing business was so brisk just then that wounded men wero looking out for themselves. I managed to get to a and sat down on it to wait until J should die. The pain was so fearful that I could barely move my limbs. Il seemed to paralyze my nervous and muscular force. As I sat there watch ing the men scamper along, one of my old comrades passed me. "What's the matter, Abe?' he cried. Hit?' "They've done me this time, I an swered. "Hope not,' he turned to yell baok as he ran. One doesn't expect delicate) attention at such times. "Well, I waited to dio. until finally I said to myself, 'If this is dying it isn't so bad after all.' "I unbuckled my belt to ease the pais and thought I would like to see what a deadly wound looked like. I took s look and there was no wound there. I could not believe my eyes. I knew 1 had been hit, for 1 could feel where the ball had come out in my back. I put my hand around there to touch the hole and could not find it. There was not a sign of a wound in my side, not a mark on the skin. It took me not more than thirty seconds to buckle my belt around me and make a run fot my company. I caught it in twenty minutes. "How's this?' two or three of the boys panted; 'we thought you weft killed.' "Well, you see I am not,' I said fall ing into the ranks. "I had been hit by a pent ball, and that night when I examined my side I found a black and blue spot on it as big as my cap. I didn't mind it in the least. A man who suddenly recovers from a mortal wound feels pretty cheerful." Men And Their Hobbies. A statement made by a wise man ! that "Every honest man has a hobby. The man iu question did not use these precise words, says the American Cultivator, but they amount to the same in substance. A man who is always tinkering around, making something or other in the mechanical line, is never found spending his leisure hours iu a gin mill or saloon. The voung man whose hob by is study will bo found at his book as soon as his dav's work is done and Slipper js swallowed. The chap who has "music the brain" will be pulling or scraping instrument early and late, until friends almost wish he would quit hi his his hobbv and relegate himself to the rum shop. Manv young men ride a mechanical hobby, and are often building exper imental machines.and making "young" steam engines, lo such men, electno- ity possesses a most enticing field. There is no end to the directions io which thought may be profitably turned in connection with electricity. Weil developed as it is, electricity Is as yet an almost unknown thing, which will require lifetimes of study to reduce to the full understanding of all. r.leo tricity is the future power of the world as it has always been its life, although nnknown and uncomprehended ioi ages. That a young man will waste hours and days of his life in doing worse than nothing, wheu he has such a field before him, is scarcely to be compre hended, but it is a disgraceful fact. Let the young awake to the idea that ths advancement of the world dependi upon them personally; that the yean to come may be better or worse as they choose to study or to be idle, and it seems as though thev would aulf beer drinking, dice shaking and card shuffling instantly to avail themselvei of the privileges before them. A man may be about what he makes himself nowadays, and if he chooses to become a sot, the way is open: if h chooses to become a power in the land, he can do so by going to work in that direction and keeping at it. Had Not Been In trod need. Dumas often laughed at English stiff ness and reserve. One of his stories was this: "One day Victor Hugo and I were invited to dine with the Duke of Ducazes. .Among the guests were Lora and Lady Palmerston of course this happened before the lebruary revolu tion. At midnight tea was handed round. Victor Hugo and I were sitting side by side chatting merrily. Lord and Lady Palmerston had arrived very late, and there had consequently been no opportunity to introduce us before dinner. After dinner it seems it was for gotten. English custom, consequently id not allow us to be addressed by the illustrious couple. All at once young Ducazes came up to us and said: 'My dear Dumas, Lord ralmerston begs you will leave a chair free be tween you and Victor Hugo.' '1 hastened to do as he wished. Ws moved away from each other and E laced a chair between us. Thereupon iord Palmerston entered, holding the hand of his wife, led her up to us, and invited her to sit down on the empty chair all this without saying a word. "My lady,' he said to his wife, 'what time have you P' "She looked at her watch and answer ed: Thirty-five past twelve.' Well, then, said the great min ister, Temember well that this day at thirty-five minutes past twelve you were sitting between Alexander Dumas and Victor Hugo an honor which you will probablv never enjoy again in your lifetime.' "Then he offered his arm again to his wife, and took her to her seat with out saying a word to us. because wt had not been presented." Ledger. A rich landed proprietor in Austria has been sentenced to seven months penal servitude, with occasional days of short rations and sleeping on a plank bed for torturing a farm servant.