The Red Cloud chief. (Red Cloud, Webster Co., Neb.) 1873-1923, January 11, 1884, Image 6
"i .'Mtot-r "" rr-i-i rirT 3aJWi,jj jj'wk Ji'1'yj'f ' ' ' "ju u 'umymUij-toata-'i 11 I s PI Our Young Headers. THE B0F5 Z) TJZE GIRLS. rbepo is such a crowd of you, boys and girls, You are thronging in evory place; If we did not conquer you now and then You would fill up all the space. rou tako the world as if it were your own. You merrily laugh and sing, sJf there we not a fading: time. And life eouu bo always spring:. ffo send you out of the way sometimes, -"in the midst of your mirth and noise, r For old beads ache, and old hearts fail, , And can not share your joys. 3ut the world balongs to you. after all. And others aside must stand, "hat you may be able to do and dare, And be masters in the land. fou arc so busy at school and play That you have no thought to spare ?orthe uroblems that puzzle the grown-up folks. And make them gray with care. . But you are the people, my happy ones; c And all that we do to-day iVill bo more to you thau it is to us, For yon will the longest stay. We are quick to give to you praise and blame; What will you give us, when rou weigh, as judges, our words and deeds lu the time when you are the men? PVhat will you think of the laws we make - When you read the records through? in J the manners and customs of church and home. And the citieft we build for you? Bnvs, be generons: girls, bo fair! We are trying to do our best. iVe arj beginning snmc irood brave work Tis for you to do the rest. riiroirjli misty moorland and foz-QUcd street, We are seeking for irrcnter light: But for you there is breaking above the world A Iay that is passing bright. Toilers are wo, who aro well content To work for the Nation's need, 5Vc have been delving the gold to find. We have been sowing seed. " Good times to live in we leave to you. And rights that were hard to win; ' Be worthy of the better times. And gather our harvests in. Marianne Farntn'jham.in London Christian HbrM. m A WONDERFUL RIVER. With his fingers locked tightly in his ;risp. curly hair, Jackman Rolf Jack, for short-Asat resting his elbow on the utblc, which supported a canvas-covcreel " sopy of Horseberg's Sailing Directions:, .an one of the open pages of which his 2es were steadfastly fixed. Opposite him, in a similar attitude, was his brother. Sj'lvester, now in his fourteenth year, was two years younger than Jack. Before Sylvester lay a well worn Physical Geography, open at the map of South America. He was sup- fiosed to be studying his day's lesson. u reality his mind was "far, far at I sea. lor Jack: Uoit, wno, as every one declared, was " a born sailor," had just returned from his first voyage with ins father. Captain Merrill Rolf. . He was full of enthusiasm for his new life, and could talk of little else but the sea and everything connected with it, to all of which Sylvester listened eagerly. particularly as Jack, being a keen ob server, and possessing a good memorv, was a most delightful talker. "I say, Jack." No answer. In fancy Jack was again clinging to tho Paul Kevere's weather mizzen-rigging, as she scudded at light ping speeu before a terrible cyclone Jvliich they had encountered on the re turn passage. And Jack, aided by the map before him, was mentally .compar ing the route over which they had sailed, lo escape running into the dreaded Storm center, with the route there laid down "Jack!" this time rather louder. "Ay, ay, sir!" was the dreamy an Bwcr. And then, with a sudden start. Jack came back to his home surround ingsto the old-fashioned furniture, "mil his dead mother's picture over the mantel, and Sylvester opposite him yawning over his lesson. "Well, what is it, Sillybub?" Jack asked, good-naturedly. ' "I should like to sail up the Amazon, the biggest river in the world," replied 6yl. glancing at the map. He didn't teally care in the least about the Ama zon, but he wanted to make Jack talk. "Three weeks ago I crossed a bigger find wider river than the Amazon ever Jiretended- to be," said Jack, briskly, as, shutting the cover of Lis book witli a bang, he leaned back in his chair and softly whistled an old sea-song. ' "Why, .lack Rolf!" exclaimed Syl vester. "Three weeks ago you were at sea." "Yes," replied Jack, calmly, as he fixed his gaze on the fly-studded ceil ing, "and it is altogether different from any river that I ever saw or heard of." "How?" questioned Sylvester, curi ous to get at Jack's meaniug. "Uh, ever-way. was the somewhat indefinite answer. In the first place," 'Jack continued, slowly, "it llows in a sort of immense circle" "A river flowing in a circle!" scorn fully interrupted Sylvester. " And there is bne part of it," pur sued his brother, "that for quite a long distance some hundreds of miles, I think flows up-hill." i "Oh. no doubt," was the ironical re sponse. "Anything else?" Sylvester pad managed by a great effort to gulp flown if I may so express it the cir cular" flow of this wpnderful river, but the up-hill movement was rather too tnuch of a strain. "Anything else?" repeated Jack '"oh yes, lots. No matter' how cold it 'is," he went on, gravely, "this river I Bpeak oi ne vers freezes, lor two reasons; bne is, that the water is almost warm; and the other, because it won't stop running long enough for Jack Frost to pet his grip on it, lor there is always a three or four knot current or tide." : "I don't see how it can run when it's all tied," interrupted Sylvester, with inward delight at being able to remem ber and bring into active service an old newspaper joke. ( Jack cast a pitying glance at his brother, but made no reply to such an ill-timed attempt at wit. f "The river of which I speak has no bne definite source or outlet, though it branches out in two or three directions. Another curious fact is, that while its surface is exactly level with the top of its banks, it has never been known to overflow them during the heaviest rain foils, or to lower the fraction of an inch Suring the driest seasons." "Are its banks mud, or gravel, or rock, or what?" inquired Sylvester, who was thoroughly mystified. "Neither?' his brother replied, grave ly. "Janks and bottom alike are of bold salt-water." Gulf StrcaraP axclajmed Sylvejterr upon whose mind the truth had'sud denly dawned. "What a goose 1 was not to have known what you were driv ing at long ago!" Opening the thick canvas-covered book, in which he had been reading, Jack called his brother to his side and directed his attention to a diagram of the Eastern and Western continents. "Away down there, near the South American coast," said Jack, pointing to the spot with his finger, " the big Am azon is all the time pouring an im mense volume of water into the seifc, which lies sweltering under a tropic sun." " Don't understand how the sea can swelter,'"' broke in his irrepressible brother. "That, my boy, is simply a figure of speech," was the unmoved answer. But to continue. This sun-warmed cur rent, following the shore-line at a dis tance, passes through aud carries with it the heated waters from what some scientific person has called the two great caldrons the Caribbean Sea and the Gulf of Mexico. It then enters the Florida Straits, where some say that the Gulf Stream proper fairly com mences, because here are its first two definite boundaries Cape Sable on the one hand, and the Island of Cuba with the Bahamas on the other." "But whereabouts docs it begin to run up-hill?" "Not far from Cape Sable," Jack re plied, "though perhaps the expression that I used was rather too strong. What 1 meant was that "the Coast Sur vey soundinjrs have shown a gradual rise from this poiut, where the stream - s' is about thirty miles wide, clear up to Cape Halt eras, where it is more than twice that width." " Aud why does the Gnlf Stream al wavs run to the north and east?" "Well." replied Jack, slowly, "there arc different theories on that point. The dailv motion of the earth from east to west has something to do with it. Then, again, it is claimed that the waters of the Gulf Stream and its tribu- I taries are Salter than the sea which hems it in. consequently evaporation takes place faster, so that the water is always hurrying in to take the place of i that which the thirsty trade-winds are lapping tip. And perhaps the trade winds, blowing stcadilv from the north- east, heh) to force this movinir bodv of water in the direction of the Caribbeau Sea." And then, by the aid of diagrams. Jack showed his brother how this wonderful river in the sea, after follow- ing our own coast-line for hundreds of miles, splits in sunder above the forti- Qth parallel of latitude. "This branch runs up to the north ward and eastward," said Jack, point ing out the tiny arrow-heads marking its course, "while the other, tending due east, at last overflows its banks of salt sea, and is spread out over thousands ol . . i , j &ramll sweet 0i nno - - Ir ailsvtwiplki l f - win c?I"il? which mid-ocean might be called the middle, it helps form the great equato rial current which in turn is swept to ward the Caribbean Sea." "But, Jack," said his brother, with a puzzled look, "why don't the Gull Stream water mix with the ocean?" "Well," Jack slowly replied, "that is pretty hard for me to explain, be cause I don't fully understand it my- i ... L , t self. But as nnarlv as I do understand . it," he continued, "it's something on the same principle as the fact that hot and cold water don't unite in a dish til) they're, so to speak, stirred up togethei pretty thoroughly. And then they say that bodies of water of different densi ties won't mix readily, which isanothei reason, for the Gulf Stream is consider ably Salter than the ocean which hems it in. But just see. Syl," Jack went on, warming with his subject "just see how beautifully the Creator makes everything pulLtogether. so to bpeak. Now the earth is a conductor of heat, you know." Sylvester didn't know, but nodded h:j assent, and Jack went on: "Well, if the Gulf Stream flowed di rectry over the bottom of the sea, it would soon loose its temperature. Bui the Almighty has so arranged it that away up in the Northern regions a polai current is set in motion, and comes sweeping down to meet the Gulf Stream somewhere near the Grand Banks. When it strikes the warm current il sinks to the bottom, and so puts itself between the stream and the bottom oi the ocean, so that the water is kept at exactly the proper temperature.'' "But what's the use of the Gull Stream, anyway?" persisted Sylvester. use oi ltr echoed dacK; " I guess this would be a prettv uncomfortable country to live in if there was no Gull Stream. Only for this current to carry away the heated water from the Gulf ol Mexico and Caribbean Sea, the whole region down there would be a parched, sun-baked, dried-up desert, where no one could live nor anything grow. And the same excess of heat that it brings away from the torrid zone is spread out where it is most needed further north. It tempers our own climate to a slight extent, but its greatest power is felt across the ocean. But for the warmth it -scatters broadcast in its eastern sweep, the British Islands, which are in tho same latitude as Labrador, would freeze up solid, and France might have sleighing all the year round, for aught I know. Then, again, vessels bound from Southern to Northern ports get the advantage of its two and three knot cur rent, and in winter, when they are 'iced up' on our own coast, a few hours' sail ing brings them into warm water, which melts off tne ice and thaws out the sail ors. Oh, I can tell you. Syl," said Jack, drawing his lecture to a close, as ne caught his brother niding a yawn "the Gulf Stream is agreat institution." i a,j - ciof. k:i,; ii And as Sylvester came to think it all over afterward, he was of the same opinion. Frank E. Converse, in Har per's Young People. It is a very rare occurrence that the number of years of a person's life will exeed the number of pounds he weighs, but such a case is in existence in Lawrence Connty, South Caro lina. Mrs. Sallio Culbertson, who livea in the northern part of that county, is eighty-five years old, and weighs only seventy pounds. Chicago Times. A new religions sect, recently formed in England, worships Mothei Evojtg a goddaffi Playlntr Santa Clans. What on earth do you think has hap pened? The other day I was at Tom tdeGinnis' house, and he had some i company. He was a big boy. and something like a cousin of Tom's. Would you believe it, that fellow said there wasn't any Santa Claus? I was ashamed for him, and I told him at once that he could never have any little hatchet. Now that boy distinctly did tell but I won't mention it. We should never reveal the wickedness of other people, and ought always to be thankful that we are worse than any body else. Otherwise we should be like the Phar isee, and he was very bad. I knew for certain that it was a fib Tom McGinni3' cousiu told. But, all the same, the tuore I thought about it the more 1 got worried. If there is a Santa Claus and, of course, there is how could he get up on the top of the house, so he could come down the chimney, unless he car ried a big ladder with jiim; and if he did this, now could he carry presents enough to lillmornahundred stockings? And then how could he help getting the things all over soot from the chim ney, and how does he manage when the chimney is all full of smoke and tire, as it always is at Christmas? But then, as the preachor says, he may be supernatural I had to look that word up in the dictionary. Tho story Tom McGinnis' cousin told kept on worrying me, and finally I be gan to think how perfectly awful it would be if there was any truth in it. How the children would feell There's going to be no end of children at our house this Christmas, and Aunt Eliza and her two small boys are here already. I heard mother and Aunt Eliza talking about Christmas the other day. aud they agreed that all the children should Bleeo ton cot bedsteads in the back parlor, so that they could open their stockings together, and mother said: " You know, Eliza, there's a big fire place in that room, and the children can hang tlieir stockings around the chimney." Now 1 know I did wrong, but it was only because I did not want the chil dren to be disappointed. We should al ways do to others and so on, and I know I should have been grateful if anybody had tried to get up a Santa j Claus for mc in case of the real one be- ! wgout of repair. Neither do I blame . mother, though u sne naun t spoken 'about tiio nre-piaco in the way sue diei. it, wouui never nave nappeneu. nut i .do think that they ought to have made a j little allowance for me. since I was only i.tirirt- tf l,nlii ftinl'n tlin Ptipictmnclmci. ness successful. "J"o " ""!' . w.wj..... wu.j. It all happened yesterday. Tom Mc-1 Ginnis had come to see mc, and all the folks had gone out to ride except Aunt i PI Eliza's little boy Harry. We were talking about Christmas, and I was tell ing Tom how all the children were to sleep in the back parlor, and how there was a chimney there that was just the J thing for Santa Claus. We went and looked at the chimney, and then I ' said to Tom what fun it would be to dress up and come down the chimney I and pretend to be Santa Claus. and how it would amuse the children, and how pleased the grown-up folks would be. .. - - .. "r tney are always wanting us to amuse them. I Tom agreed with me that it would be splendid fun, and said we ought to practice coming down the chimney, so that we could "do it easily on Christmas eve. He said he thought I ought to do ( it, because it was our house; but I ' said no, he was a visitor, and it would be mean and selfish in me to deprive ' him of any pleasure. But Tom wouldn't do it. He said that he wasn't feeling very well, and that he didn't like to ' take liberties with our chimney, and, l-besides, he was afraid that he was so big that he wouldn t lit the cuimney. Then we thought of Harry, and agreed that he was just the right size. Of course Hany said he'd do it when we asked him, for he isn't afraid of any thing, and is so proud to be allowed to play with Tom and mc that he would do anything we asked him to do. Well, Harry took off his coat and Bhoes, and we all went up to the roof, and Tom and I boosted Harry till he got on the top of the chimney and put his legs in it and slid down. He went down like a flash, for he didn't know enough to brace himself the way the chimney-sweeps do. Tom and 1 hur ried down to the back parlor to meet him: but he had not arrived yet, though the fire-place was full of ashes and soot. We supposed he had stopped on the way to rest; but after awhile we thought we heard a noise, like somebody calling, that was a great wav oil'. We went up on the roof, thinking Harry might have climbed baek up the chim nej', but he wasn't there. When we got on the top of the chimney we could near him plain enough. He was crying and yelling for help, for he was stuck about half-way down the chimney and couldn't get either up or down. We talked it over for some time, and decided that the best thing to do was to get a rope and let it down to him and pull him out. So I got the clothes-line , and let it down, but llarrv's arms were I jammed close to his sides, so he couldn't . letters which passed between the ven getholdof it. Tom said we ought to i icrable poet and the Government have make a slinnernoosc. catch it. over ,' never been printed. But they exist in Harry's head, and pull him out that way, but 1 knew that Harry wasn't very strong, and I was afraid it we did that ----- 1-r r ' i he might come apart. Then I proposed that we should get a long pole and push Harry down the rest of the chimney, but after hunting all over the yard we couldn't, find a pole that was long enough, so we had J" " ?" '"" rTin T 7S umo Harry was crving- in the most j;aawfi ii,?.,, ,. to rive that plan up. All this doing all we could for him. That's the way with little boys. They never havo any gratitude, and are always discon tented. As we couldn't poke Harry down, Tom said let's try to poke him up. So wc told Harry to be patient and consid erate, and we went down stairs again, and took the longest pole we could find and pushed it up the chimney. Bushels of soot came down, and flew over everything, but we couldn't reach Har ry with the pole. By this time we be gan to -feel discouraged. We were awfully sorry for Harry, because, if we couldn't get him out before the folks came home, Tomand 1 would be in a dMadful scrape. '' ,t ii nm Then I thought that if we were to build a little fire the draught might draw Harry out Tom thought it was an excellent plan. So I started a fire, but it didn't loosen Harry a bit, and when we went on the roof to meet him we heard him crying louder ttian ever, and saying that something was on fire in the chimney, and waschoking him. I knew what to do. though Tom didn't, aud, to tell the truth, he was terriblj frightened. We ran down and got two pails ol water and poured them down the chim ney. That put the fire out, but would you hardly believe it that Harry was more unreasonable than ever, and said we were trying to drown him. There is no comfort in wearing yourself out in trying to please little boys. You can'l satisfy them, no matter how much trouble you take, and for my part I arc tired of trying to please Harry, and shall let liim aniu-c himself the rest ol the time he is at our house. We tried every plan we could think of to get Harry out of tho chimney, but none of them succeeded. Tom said that if we were to pour a whole lot o: oil down the chimney it would make it so slippery that Harry would slide right down into the back parlor, but 1 wouldn't do it, because 1 knew the oil would spoil Harry's clothes, and that would make Aunt Eliza angry. All ol a sudden I heard a carriage stop at out gate, and there were the grown folks, who had come earlier than I had sun- posed they would. Tom said that lie would go home before his own folks be gan to get uneasy about him, so Jit went out of tho back gate, antl left mc to explain things. They had to send for some men to come and cut a holt through the wall. But they got Harry out all safe; and after they found that be wasn't a bit hurt, instead of thank ing me for all Tom and I had done foi him, they seemed to think that I de served the worst punishment I ever had. and I got it. And E shall never make another at tempt to amuse children on Christmas eve. "Jimmy Brown" in Harper'i Young People. Women's Wages in Xew York. The holidays have given great ac- livity to the retail trade, and there has been an increase in tho demand foi clerks. Many young women from the coin try have come liither, seeking this kind of employment. Til's is to be re gretted, as there arc always more ol this class here than the demand re quires. To be more explicit, I would say that young women arc generally paid oue-third less than men for the same service. A good saleswoman can earn So a week, and in some install' ef S10. There are a few who, being very expert, receive 12, but such instances are rare. A first-class cashier in a large establishment is sometimes paid 1.5, but this requires great ability and ex perience, and perhaps security. There are many women book-keepers, who. after long practice, earn from 8 tc SIC a week, but such situations are nol easily obtained. A few of this clas: earn 12, and there is one case men tioned where a woman of extraordinary ability has 20 a week, but if a mac performed those very duties he would have one-third more An inquiry made at the Christian Association brought the reply that 16 per week is the high- i est pay any woman can hope for, either , as tea-.-her or book-keeper. Tho bcsl ! ay is earned by a few experienced J lousekeepers, who are in the service ol rich families, and receive 1,000 a year, with board. Some artificial l'ower makers earn 18 per week at this sea son of the year, but this is rare, and there are hundreds of well-trained women who would be glad to earn from 8 to 10 a week, while there are thou sands whose earnings are from u tob The holiday activity, of course, help this class, but there are so many readj for any opening that there is no encour agement for country folks. N. Y. Cor. L'lica Herald. Tennyson's Appointment as Laureate. Baron Tennyson has now been poet laureate for twenty-three years. lit succeeded w ordswortii, who died id 1850. The circumstances of his ap pointment. were really droll, as showing how much statesmen know of poetry. When Wordsworth died the appoint ment was offered, in a most courteous autograph letter by Prince Albert, tc the venerable Samuel Rogers, thee nearly ninety years ol 1. Rogers was told that the Queen held him in high regard, and that the acceptance of the honor implied no necessity of an forma! duty. He was, of course, high ly gratified, but he declined. He was then consulted by the Government ol the dav as to the proper person to be named laureate, and he at once sug gested Tennyson's name. It is a curi ous and even amusing fact that a letter was sent him in reply from the Minis try, to ask what Air. Tennyson had written, and if it would be perfectly safe, on moral grounds, to name him. The phrase in the letter is, "We do no! know this gcntlemau," or words to this import. So ileeply concerned were Lord John Kussell and his friends in the politics of the day that they had no chance to read "Locksley Hall." The one of the most choice autograph col lections in England. Boston Adver. tiser. Too Late. It appeared to be a 'private confab, as the two men sat with their backs to the iron fence of the Trinity Church. "If you was Jay Gould," S3id one, " and! was a Judge on the bench, how much would vou give to own me?" "Well, Idunno, "How much wotdd you take?1' "Make me an offer." "Well, I'd chip in with Jim Kecne and Russell Sage and Uncle Rufus, and I reckon we'd offer you 20,000. "Hoot! toot! man, but you d get leu: While you were getting' up the pool President Villard would step in with an offer of 25,000." Verdict for plaintiff. Wall Street News. -c .i v,ri- ..f t ,,m.c nineteen with a babv in her arms. All -MothscanbeJveptoutofprmentc state'which is best de- by wrapping them in solid colored cal- edas mauannthey have fin-xco.-l)etrod Free Press. - .ghed Jot of 3nd yoange8t Cows arc still used to drag the plow i woman is ordering another round. It in Central Germany. - I is a great-grandmother, grandmother, Temperance Sending. THE DRINKING - HOUSE THE WAY. OYER AX INCIDENT OP THE CHUSADK. rhe room-was so cold, so cheerless and bare. rt'Ith its rickety table, and one broken cliair. And its curtaiulcss window with hardly a pano To keep out tho snow, the wind ami the rain. cradle stood empty, pushed up to tne wall. And somehow that seemed the saddest of all. In the old rusty stove the tire was dead; There was snow on tho Uoor at the foot of the bed. And there all alono a pale "woman was lying: Vou need not look twice, to seo she was dying; Hying of want of hunger and cold. Shall I tell you her storv the story she told? No ma'am, I'm no better, my cough is so bad: It's wearinir mc out, though, and that makes me glad. For it's wearisome living when one's all alone. And Heaven they tell me is just like a home " Yes, ma'am, 1'vo a husband, he's some where about: t hopeil he'd come in 'fore the Are went out: Hut 1 guess he has gone where he's Ukcly to May. I mean to the drinking-house over the way. ,'It was not so always: I hope you won't think Too hard of Mm. lady, it's only the drink. 1 know he's kind-hearted, for oh, how he er.e I For our poor little baby the morning It died! " You see he took sudden, and grew very bad. And we hnd no doctor my poor little lad! For his father had gone never meaning to stay. I am sure to the driuking-house over the way. "And when he came back 'twas far in the night. And i was- so tired, and sick with the fright Ir staymjrso long with my baoy alone. And it cutting my heart with its pitiful moan. " He was cross with tho drink, poor fellow, I know It was that, not his baby, that bothered him so: But he swore at the child, ns panthig it lay. And went back to the drinking-house over the way. I hcanl the gate slam ami my heart seemed to freeze Like ice in mj hosom, and there on mv knee1 By the siile of the cradle, all shivering, 1 stayed; I wanted my mothtr, I cried and I prayed. The clock it struck two 'fore my baby was And my thoughts they went back to the home on the hill. Where my happy girlhood had spent its short day. Far, far from that drinking-house over the way. ' Cou!d I be that girl? I, the heart-broken wiTe. There uatchimr alone, while that dear little life Wa going so fast, that I had to bend low To hear if he breathed, 'twas so faint and so slow. " Yes it was eny his moro w hite. dying, he jut grew And his cjes unmed wider to look for the lirht As his father can:o in, 'twas just break of J iy. I Came in from the drinking-house over the way. " Yes. ma'am, he was sober, at least mostly, I think. He otten stayed that way to wear otr the drink. And I know he wa sorry for what he had done. For he set a great store by our first little sou. "And straight did" he come to the cradle-bed where Our baby lav dead, so pretty and fair: I wondered that 1 could have wished him to . stay i When mere was a drinking-house over the way. " He stood quiet awnile. did not understand. l ou t-ec. ma am, till he touched the little cold hand: Oh, then came the tears, and he shook like a leaf. And said: "Twas the drinking had made all the grief.' , " The neighbors were kind, and the minister cause. Andhctalkc.l of my seeing my baby asniln; Ami of the bright angels I wondered if thv Could see into that drinking-house over the way. "And I thought when my baby was put in the ground. And the man with tho spade was shaping the mound. If some! ody only would help mc to save My husband, who stood by my side at the grave. ' If only it were not so handy, the drink! The men that make laws, ma'am, sure didn't think Of the hearts thj- would break, of the souls they wculd s!ay. When they licensed that drinking-house over the way. " I've been sick ever since, it can not belong; Be pitiful, lady, to him when Tin pone: He wants to do right, but you never would think How weak a man grows when he's fond of the drink. " And it's tempting him here, and it's tempt ing him there: Four piaces I've counted in this very square Where a man can get whisky by night and by day. Not to reckon the drinklng-houso over the way. " There's a verse in the Bible tho minister read: 'So drunkard shall enter Heaven.' it said: And he is my husband, and I loved him so. And where I am going, I want he should go. " Our baby and I will both want fcim there; Don't you think the dear Jesus will hear to my prayer? And please, when I'm gone, ask some one to pray For him, at tho drlnklmr-house over the wav." Jfrs. Suttiivj. in Unton Sianal. London Gin Palaces. More than one-fourth of the earnings of the denizens of the slums goes over the bars of the public houses and gin palaces. To study the dark phase of this burning question lot us take the districts irom wnicn i nave drawn toe facts and figures I have .submitted to your readers in previous articles. On a Saturday night in the great thoroughfare adjacent "there are three corner public nouses which take as much money as the whole of the other shops on both sides of the way put to gether. Butchers, hakcr.s, green-gro cers, clothiers, furniture dealers, all tne caterers for the wants of the populace, are open till a Jate hour; there are hun dreds of them trading round and about. but the whole lot do not take as much 1 money as three publicans that is a fact ghastly enough in all conscience. Enter j the public houses and you will see them ' crammed. Here are "artisans and la borers drinking away the wages that onght to clothe their little ones. Here are -the women squandering the money that would pnrchase food for the lack of which their children are dying. One group rivets the eye of an observer at once. It con sists of an old gray-lnired dame, a , woman of fortr, and a girl of about and a mother and her baby four gen erations together and they are all di&yr'and disheveled, aud drunk, ex cept the baby, and even the poor little mite may have its first taste of alcohol presently. It is no uncommon sight in these places to see a mother wet a baby's lips with gin and water. The process is called "giving the young'un a taste," and the baby's father will look on sometimes and enjoy the joke immensely. But the time to sec the result of a Saturday night's heavy drinking in a low neighborhood is after the houses are closed. Then you meet dozens ol poor wretches reeling home to their miserable dens, tome of them rolling across the roadway and falling, cutt'ng themselves till the blood Jlows. Every penny iu some instances has gone in drink. One dilapidated ragged wretch I met hist Saturday night" was gnawing a baked potato. By his sitle stood a thinly-clad woman bearing a baby in her arms, and in hideous language ht reproached him for his selfishness. She had fetched him out of a public-house, with his last halfpenny in his pocket. With that halfpenny he had bought tin potato, which he refused to share with her. At ever- comer the police art ordering or coaxing men and women tc "move on.' Between twelve and out. it is a long procession of drunkeu men and women, and the most drunken seem to be those whoe outward appearance betokens the most abject poverty. Turn out of the main thoroughfare and into the dimly-lighted back street and you come upon scene after scene tc the grim, grotesque horror of which only thn pene.-l of a Dore could do just ice. Women with hideous di-torted faces are rolling from side to side shriek ing aloud snatches of popular songs plentifully interlarded w'th the vilasl expressions. Men as drunk as them selves meet them, there is a short inter change of ribald jests ami foul oaths, than a quarrel and a shower of blows. Down from one dark court rings a r of murder, and a woman, her fa e hid eously gashed, makes across the narrow road pursued bv a howling madman It is only a drunken husband having s row with his wife. A friend cf mine, who is never tire: of trying to urge the people of this dis triet to temperance, not long since found a man sitting up naked on a heat of rags shivering ith the death throe? on him, and crying for water for hi. parched throat. His wife, in a ma'idlir state of intoxication, was staring help lessly at her dying husband. A coal was given to wrap round the poor fel low. At night, when my friend re turned, he found the man cold am dead and naked, and the woman in s state of mail iutoxi atiou. She h:i torn the coat from the body of the dy ing man and pawned it for drink, lr these districts men and women who an starving will get grants of bread, and some of them ask for the bread to be wrapped in clean paper. Do you know why? That they may sell the loaf tc some one for a copper or two. and gel drunk with the money. Men will comt and buy a pair of boots in the montin- out of their earnings, ami pay sever shillings for them. At night they wil return to the same shop and offer to sel them back for four shill ngs. The have started drinking, and want thi money to finish -the carouse with. (. IL Sims, in London Daily News. Tcmiicrancc Items. Some English insurance companic: charge twenty per cent, less premiuit to total abstainers than to moderate drinkers. This is the result of an expe rience with high death rates among tin latter 'jlass. Iiik Wisconsin Central Ra'Iroat Company have sent letters to each ant every agent aud employe on the lint strictly forbidding the use of any alco holic beverages, wine and beer" AI honor to General Manager Finney, wru has promulgated this total-abstinenet doctrine so practically. Union Signal. Geumanv's appetite for spirits grows apace. In 1872, '3. -112,270 hectoliters o spirituous liquors were consume 1 am only two years later 1, 108.Cy8 hectoliters The 8,880' whisky distilleries of Prussi: Used up a whole potato crop in fotu years and a whole rye crop in twelvi years. Among the lunatics twenty-five percent arc drinkers, and irrone" Rus sian institution eighty-six percent, wen such. Does everybody known that the Can adian Pacific Railway has a sectioi reaching over the entire broad domaii of the .Northwest Territory without : single dram shop "on the'line?" Dc people generally know that prohibitioi prohibits on that railway to the exten that a red-coated officer in Her Majesty's service enters every train that crossc the border and examines the passengers baggage and remorselessly seizes even drop of liquor that he finds, even to thi" half-emptied flask of the traveler? Wil. anybody say this is tyrannical interfer ence? Then so is the Custom's service of every land. Does anybody declare it unwarrantable.-' L.et the peacefu condition of society rebut the charge, and the fact that in this region of sav ages and savage depredations not r white man has been killed by Indians since the policy was adopted. The rail way officials also testify to its benefi cence in the construction and maintain ance of the road. Union Signal. A whiter in the Union Signal says "I don't like to give rumore from the wires, but here are two so good that they ought to be true. One savs that Governor Blackburn, of Kcntuckj-, when he was installed in his office, elc termined he would not touch alcohol ir any form while in office, and when he had retired said he had kept his deter mination. The other is that Governor Robinson, of Massachusetts, when a member of the Special Committee on the Improvement of the Mississippi River, secured a vote at the first meet ing by which the Sergeant-at-Arms was ordereel not to furnish any liquors. Fen once such a trip was made in which there was no intoxication and no scan dal. The cities of Memphis, Heleur.. Natchez and New Orleans tenderetl great dinners. At bis suggestion they were declined, anel the t'me given tc visiting the improvements which ttz Government was making. If true, ane. I am inclinctl to think they are, these items speak a brave worel for the effect of Temperance effort." V rA rH A h ffiykri." ' t. Jb&iSimimSi "' "'t .;-