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About The farmers' alliance. (Lincoln, Nebraska) 1889-1892 | View Entire Issue (Sept. 20, 1890)
LINCOLN, NEBRASKA, SATURDAY, SEPT. 20, 1890.
V "7' ijMfrqigy
Notice to Subscribers.
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.
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
Where squalor and filth abound,
Where vice runs rampant and pestilence
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
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
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
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
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
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
Dlggfnff Turf for Fuel and Ca-rylng It t
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
wife of the
If it hap-
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
"What was the idea in shipping such
"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
"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.
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
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
"Let us alone and we won't disturb
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
"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!"
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!"
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?"
If he was a straggler from our lines
or a wounaea man ne wouia maite
"Step! Step!" And now I hear him
sink dowu to the earth.
"Who goes there?"
"Who goes there?"
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
"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.
"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
One hundred and fifty-two million
cork-screws ate made yearly in New
"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
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
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,
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
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
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
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
'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,
"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
Replying to the clergyman, Mr. Phil
"You are a minister of the gospel?"
"I am. sir."
"Your mission is to save souls from
"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
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
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
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."
'You want to flirt with me. I know
yon do. Don't you try to squeeze my
"Tlnf T nacnrn Tmii
"But you may.
Here it is. Nobody
is looking. You may kiss it if you
"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
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
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.
'I was wounded three times
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
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.
"They've done me this time, I an
"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
"How's this?' two or three of the
boys panted; 'we thought you weft
"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
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
brain" will be pulling or scraping
instrument early and late, until
friends almost wish he would quit
hobbv and relegate himself to the rum
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
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
"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
"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.
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