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About The Red Cloud chief. (Red Cloud, Webster Co., Neb.) 1873-1923 | View Entire Issue (May 17, 1884)
HHIHil v w .4r!f '.r-jr r&s Mi? -r-- is. r " 111 ni'i 11 1 1 iai liiii 1 iiiiim mi 1 awi mil ' iMl H mmmEmmmmmmmmmm mmm i Tffa ''y, ' t A THE BED JJLOUD CHIEF A. C. HOSMEH, Publisher. SED CLOUD. NEBRASKA. HOBBIES BIRTHDAY P-inrv "l:njrs,toe..l!.ssin,n eYrv,cI,irc- me the -,. , ., Se'"Vs inif anil rck: JvV.nbv" ,tU"r, "". world around; he's seven j ears old to-day : TeU the VreMent he'll have to wait. H s inly in the iuv. -A11.I ir the Knur should come Jn state, v ., ile - t come m to-iuv. Hut they'll hiu e a welcome hearty , :.,'?' V,I1(J to "lance and sinif At the l'rmee'3 birthday party, W lth the children in the n:il nS".5,a: lin-'. Ji'njrle. Jinjrle, w lio 1- coimnjr. Kobbie know Jlow -lie iiiakes the mu-Io tinplo "..I .He ii.-iis upon tier toe. -And -hick and Jill n ill tumble W ith our -k-epy-ejed Koy Kiue, -And in a noi-, jumble Come the children from the Shoe. j With ill- pipe and bowl vou'll lind him. Hattpy. jolly old Kitur Colo. ,.., ,IS 'J'Kers -it iwhitid him. withu tlddle. rn-rj Muii: -And with tunny 5Ii .larley niT V'L' " VU'-en draw nt"h. lyh the piidduiHr made or barley -And the dainty Klaekbird lie. Hi. hi! Jack, the Kinnt killer. Hum: 3 our .-it ord up on the nick: ".ol,'re w,,,co' l)u-ty Miller, tn our hand upon the -:ick Mo. mth sonar and shout and clatter, t lome the Little Iiiiii.um all 3Ieiey on u. what's the matter? Humpty JimnptjV ot a Tall! X.itt!e rlv.-s so bnjrlit ami airy. I lorn tiieir hi.mp b. neath the hill, Jlati a dainty. st.ir-c-mit tied lairv. l-auirliin-r nynipli-i trom brook and rill; Giants, tall :i- an steeple. And the Three Hears trom the wood. Come to meet the little people. Tor on bnthda they'ie alljfood. Unit- the noi-e will .shake each rafter In the Hou-e.laek built hiin-etr. w lien it itl. shout an I somr and laughter. Cant, l'niry. Iteuraud Klf. l)i-h and ?oon. and Cat mid riddle, h and I)o;raud eicrythiefrr Dance and -my. Hi diddle diddle! With the children in the rin;r. his j e-ir- arc ero ned ith flowery and the Min -tune- all the tnr.A Jnd it ith daiicin? fe-t the hour tell his days with sonz and rliyje. c;ttitliiiri:itii- In- life is rounded, und old Time inn-t sun e and saj : Wht. another evel.- liouiidcJ: Uobbie's ce en j ears old t'i-d.i ! j:urimjUm Ilaivkcyc JEANIK'S DIPLOMACY. A hkett-li u ith a 2Ior.il. 1. .Jcrvtliing looked grim, massive and out ot Ininuir about the hard-leatured oM homestead. Dark Kidgo. The somber w alls, draped heavily. :is if in mourning, with the dark, writhing hy. were ceitainly prim-looking and ma-slve enough: and, if thev were not, in their way, ut ot humor, it is not in l.Cj lower f ar-hitectural physiognomy to eprc ill-liumor. If the grminess of the exterior was austre. the grim ne of the interior was moro-u. A o ftain obdurate air ot misanthropy clung to everything. The heavy panels of the wall, the-moky moldings of the oeilinjrs. the deep carinj of the mas sive iirniture. seemed to the nervou- :ij.d Imapinatjve little housekeeper Hke t nidtn wrinkles of cue great implaca ble frown. In this lair lived and prowled John Eldritch, bachelor and landlord: eccen tric, ira-cible, reclu-ive. "Auld John." his ne irhbors called him. though he , "was not old; and yet neither had he -cer seemed to be oncg. "In hs earli est bnvhood he hail been con-idcred a "mai-t unco'' bairnic.M His thock hair did not bri-tle from the outside of his -cranium with les regard to conven tional modes than his "shook" of quaint not on bristled on the inside of it-This fact and the rather more weighty one that his manners .-at a- awkwardly and !iselv on him as did his awry garments irAve him no little repute a- a philoso pher. Hi- philosophy was however. of a cry -tern mold: "pessimcestic," he termed it. How .John ever came into pose-sion of his univer-al premi-e "whatever is ought not to be," I do not know: bib, l'ainp once adopted the .spectral waif, litiMiing to it w.th an heroic obstinacy quite inspiring. The especial ob'eet of Jolm'.s abhor rence wa- the weaker he. His antipathy to anything ami everything feminine was fairly ecstatic. -The feckle-s, bletherin' corbies," lie would vociferate. "They care for Tiaelhing but daflin and clatterin. I wanna hae onylhing tae do wi" them." .V.'inna ye, .John 'Itide a wee. lAiild doiin was a great rider. He and h .shagr old road mare, "Meg," weieknown lar and wide; and rreat wa- the merriment they afforded the keen-witted peasantry- on the line of their expedition-!, which often were ex teivlcd for days. For their journeys ere but one continued obstinate con test for the ma-tership. l!it if there "wa;anv doubt a.s to who was, de facto, jn:ister"(more politely mistress) it did not exist in the minds of Meggy or the lookers on. Whatever it occurred to th s erratic animal to do she did, in spite of the tailing invecthes of her irate t.t impotent rider. Did a clump -of gras- on the hills.de offer special en ticement Whoa! whare ye gangin" noo.yeauld larran nicere:"' lint his mandate was as futile as his iroi.v. Meg's nose was hillward, and if John did not fancy being dragged under the low weeping branches, his oulv sticce--ful stratagem was to slip oil "iyi the rear and await, with as good (or :is ill) grace as possible, the pleas ure of Ins companion. Did a particu larly cozv place by the road-ide incline Mejr to rest, the celerity with which the .taiTl philo-opher -lipped from his .-ad--lle and the turbulent enthusiasm with -which he expostulated with his com--plieent partner, as she lay blinking -drprertitmglv at her liege lord, oc--c:i-ioned much -ujiprc-ed laughter -ymonr the mi-nip:ithetie observers. ir. 2'estlmir J ne of the little glens ht creep o::t trom the picturesque .am: historic vallev of the Tweed was "the quaint, retireil homestead of Glen NboM Glen Nook was the peaceful fcoine of I 'avid Lei-ter, a former mer clruit of IMinbiirgh. letired, by 511 iiL'ltli, and hi- sister. "Jcanie" I eis le: "Davie" was a genial, medita tive. r.:itle mannered man ot, perhap-, tortv-five years. Jeanic was a very small, very bright-wilted, very placid, I very wiuning maid of some thirty sum-1 mers. t seemed always to have been summer with her. At Glen ook John and Meggy were I neither infrequent nor unwelcome visit- or-'. J.o ttie mim-tempereil Davie there scorned something nuite refreshmir in u.y miess umstcr anu aceroay oi iim l.-i. -.1 1.. - II... - 1 .i .. i iiieii-.i. And Jennie? Yes; she liked him. His treatment of her, indeed, was de signed to be a lofty and ungracious re serve, fitted, he thought, to impress her duly with the ardor of his misanthropy. It was not till mam- years afterward that he learned how vigilant those quiet eyes were: how they had watched him when he sat at meals, smuggling the bits of biead into his sleeve, and iien afterward he sauntered, with a grotesque air of unconcern, behind the barn, how quickly they caught the kindling (the moistening, she thought) of the eye-, a- he heard the expectant cries of the little nest of motherless robins he had come to feed; and when he .-at, one day on the bank of a brook, trying to quiet the sobs of a very dirty and very ragged little urchin, w hose foot, torn by a thorn, he had wa-hed and wrapped in his handkurchief, he was startled by the breaking or a twig, he thought it only some frightened hare. The step was very light, indeed. Thus, all unknown to himself, those calm eyes had pierced through the ab surdly lough husk of cynicism, and saw beneath a kernel of "manhood so true, so tender, so pure, that, in her heart of heart-, she made a resolve, which, out of con-ideration for her, I will leave the reader to surmise. III. One early autum noomTay, John and Meggy weie -hamblmgslowly down the road that led to tiie orviiard gate of Glen Nook. As thin approached a short turn in the road, a tied that came staggering Irom the a and fell with ?. crash, so startled the drowsy marc that Jie swung .-wiftlv about, hurlir; her rider with great violence, to the g7')tmd. The worn and s iu-ht hard- of the woodman were as getu.'e as w 0111111.-. as they bore the bruised lorm into the sunny east chamber of the Leister home. f'or days he lay as unconscious be neath the -uowv counterpane as if it had iicen ins stirotui: iui :u last me pat eni watchers were awauleil m a twitching wi uiu iimi -i.uuu iuui; ;iuu luc siun tip- lilting ot the lieay eyelid-. As thi siifterieiL but. -fill ki-en m-ns of the invalid peered through the tan gled sage-brush ot eye brows, they looked into the quiet, speaking depths of cnf, aglow with at least a pa-s.on-ate. if not a more tender interest. But, if the eyes gave a suspicion of the heart's secret, the lips did not: for they onlv .-aid: "puir mon," and this .-o coolly that John looked again at the dark v cs; but they were speaking no longer. Now I will not betray the confidence of the little woman by di-closing her re solve, which almo-t startled herself; but 1 will tell you her strategic plan of action. It was very simple, "trivial," the reader may say. Merely the subduing of his stubborn will (which she ju-tly impeached as a high-handed tyrant), and this not so much to her own will as to his better and truer nature. Did she succeed? Let us see. You will remember, my dear, for charity's sake, that lie and she, and the sense of the proprieties of both wore naively Scotch. On the morning after his recovery of consciousness, Jeanie came into his room and. as she arranged the How ers of a fresh bouquet she had gathered, said: " Ye maun tak' some parritch, noo." "Maun!" thought John, each sep arate bristle of his misogyny erect. "I dmna wush uny parritch," he growled. "Dinne ye?" thought Jcan:e. "I saMyc maun." But she would not ar gue, this little woman. She on!- said. with the sweetest air of deference : Will e hae it warruni or cauld?" " I w inna ' With a most artless, pre-engaged manner she aro-e. saying: " I guess ye had Letter hae it war rum." A the door closed softly behind her, John buried his head in the pillow, muttering: "Sic a wee bit saucy bodie." Soon the door opened ind Jeanie ajv peared, quietly stirring a dainty bowl of "parritch " Turning to the male attendant Watty, who did not seem to do much else than to sit on the edge of his chair and bob his w eak eyes at the sick man she said: " Leeft the mon up gentle." In a few moments John found him self bol-tercd upright in bed. with the look of protest on his rugged face shail-ingalnio-t into one of supplication. " Noo tak' yer parritch, tha that's a guid mon. "Jeanie, woman, dinna I tell But the bowl was in his lap, the ye" poon in his hand, and she was humming her way through the hall. What could he do? Only what he did. When Jeanie returned to take the half-tini-hed bowl to the kitchen John saw, or thought he saw, just the suspi cion of a smile stirring in the placid depths of her eye-; and he read, or thought he read, its meaning. A few days afterward Jeame sat by the window of the invalid's room, thoughtfully ply ing her needle. Through the open windows came a fresh sweet breath of air, cooled bv a brief shower, and scented by the per fume caught from the white censers of the anple-blossonis which it had swung in the wide orchard. The breeze kis-ed gratefully the forehead of the sick man, who lay dreamily gazing at the busv spinstcf until he was thrown into the greatest discomfiture by Jennie's fold ing her hands over her'work, and gaz ing shrewdly and rellectivelv at hiim "D'ye ken what lwur thihkin' aboot, puir mon?" An upheaval of the pillow as the shag gy head plunged under it was her oulv answer. - John de-:gned this rather ill-consid ered maneuver to be uiinrfir.ttDJ at..- meanmg that he "didna ken or care." 7 U'M'.' H,l J"' But the tranquil woman was pleased to leave it uninterpreted. "I wur a-thinkm' how braw ye wad Ink in a bonny csp, triramit wi' how will ye hae it trimmit?" -Waes me! sic a daft whigmelecrie." blurted the disconcerted man. the wrinkles of his broned face deepening ;l writhing into something which might have been a grimace or a -mile. It seemed so little at home tiiere that j .Lj.ie.Uv incline to t e latter belief. I think Jcanie did, too: lor, as the heaving of the pillow revealed the fur rowed iaee, a look of serene satisfaction settled on her own. And John saw that look and read it. His first impulse was to resentment, as open and obstinate as needful: but the quiet air of alwavs seeming to defer to his wishes (althoigh it was evident she never did defer to thera), looked so in genious and so winning that he had not heart to resort to resentment. Of strat egy he kamv noth-ng. As near as he could approach to it was to form the policy of neutrality, of non-commitment. But. in the deeper diplomacy of Jcanie. it was indispensable that he should be committed. So she contin ued: "Shall we say trimmit wi' cherry-red or wi' blue?" "Jennie, woman, hae mercy. I am nae staumrel. I canna put my pow in ony sic bag as that." Ves: he was committed. Jeanie busied herself a moment in picking the dried leaves from the win dow-plants, and then, as a toward the door, .said: . j he turneit "I hae it. It maun be blue, tae match you e'en." The soft clo-ing of the door made the vehement demurrer heard onlv bv the ' attentive . atty w ho merely wped his eesand stared the harder at the in - valid. ., 1 1 .t the absurd artifice was In due time . , . c , . , ... , earned to a successful issue. Although the neatly-triHimed cap was commonly Ml under his neck, or, when he grew sicepv. was masiici ocr ins eyes like a surgical conipre-s. he made at least a pret nse of wearing it until he was able to leave the bed. His convalescence was rapid- but not so rapid but that before he could leave ' his room Jennie's little, hand had si lently unwound the matted and un sightly weeds of misanthropy (he thought it such) from his heart, and touched and awakened chords he never knew were there. And the strange, new strings were sweet. erv sweet, if no with harmony at least with Dm'iheev it came to pa inai .rawo m- .m . onL.e. during their unsiv unves up tuo ! 1....1 shady valley road, John tried hard to say something, -oniething which .leu - ni was not at all loth to hear. And though these attempts were usually hu t miliating failures, iie did not despair, nor she. i One sunny afteunon he got so far as to say, after many preliminary grim aces: "Jennie, woman, are ye nae lanely , aftentimes here, svne vour brother can ! trlirr -ilitiikt ia-i' ifc tllik niip3' "Yes. John." "Ye dinna'" he ventured, slowly rub bing the back of old Meggy with the .-tump of a whip "Ve dinna like tae be j ne lonesome. Jeanie?" I think John did not know what else to saw "Xae, John." Jeanie, woman" (John was rub bing old Mcgg 's back very hard, in deed, and making so numerous and .-o violent grimaces that that staid animal, looking back in prote-t. was utterly dis conceitcd) "Jeanie, woman, hadiia we better you an' I hadna we" But something got into his throat at this crisis. It made his face bln-h deep ly Jeanie thought to help him. " " Better what, John?" But it was of no Use. That something stuck in his throat until John was com- ' pelled to tempori.e by continuing, with great emphasis- " Hadna we better ' gang hame?" Before she could have an-wered, even had site been so di posu, tie hail tnrneil Jleg squarely ibout and. utiilr the m-piration ot tin .-.nuiisi piieu iiiip. ine oewiiueuu , marc was soon whirling them fa-thome-; ward, Days passed, and still that -oniething in the throat proved fatal to his (their? Ah! Jeanie, Jeanie") most sincere en deavors. Peacefully, almost happily, wore away the long summer days to the con valescent. And still the stirrings in his rugged breast were not stilled, nor could he wisii them stilled. Had she f conquered? No; he would not say- that; and yet he was conquered. It was the last afternoon before his depart ur. Thev (John, Jeanie and .Meggy) were returning from U, icir I daily drive up the valley. ror omo miles they had logged along in silence. Several attempts had John made to say that "something;" but that something else in the throat always forced him to patch out his sentences as gracelully ( which was a cry clumsily) as possible. The silence was growing painful. Jcanie made a great "effort, to appear unconcerned, but wretchedly failed. Xowand then John would nreak the silence by such overtures to Meggy as: "(Jiang noo!" and "Keep your tail frae nboon the lines, will ye?" But Meggy knew, as well as Jeanie and John himself, that these were mis erable subterfuges, and so paid no heed whatever to them. At la-t, where the road crossed the little valle. brook, Meggy stopped, un der the shade of an overhanging elm. to refresh herself with the cool, clear water. It was very opportune. John began nibbing Meggy's back ngnin. which, with tne great diversity ot prefatory grimace, Jeanie rightful ly interpreted hopetully. At hist: "Jeanie, for monie a day I hae tried to n-k ye something; but ilka time mv heart failit me." " Yes. John." "Jeanie, woman,'' (John's face was very red) "Jennie, will ye. will ye" Jeanie was dipping a bninch of th'c elm into tlii' brook, whose rippling waters kissed its bright lea:esaud went laugh ing on quite coquettishlw Willi" "Jeanie, woman," ( Meggy was Miaiving ner itrow-y heart m vigorous ; di-approval of the'energv with which Glut -iw- Ve be"' being scraped; "Jeanie, will "What. John?" The bough cracked, she dipped it so low. Will ye be gang in' "Xae, John; it is nae that." "Jeanie, 1 loo' ye." Well den John, well done. "I loo' y A21 noy will ve be my" "Your-?" "My ain wee" .John thought hex Scotch fondne-s for alliteration woulc stijrg.'-t, and her woman's; curiositj prompt this completion of his sentence. But no, John; you must do it yourself. ee?" echoed Jeanie. "Will ye be my am wee wifi. Jennie?" It was done and well done. "Be your wife? Why, mon, who'd 1 dreamed of it?" (Ah! Jeanie, whe would? Who did?) "Will ye, Jcanio, woman?" the voici was almost tender. Jeanie's hand was loosed from . bough, and it sprang up, scattering th spray, as in mute benediction over them "Will I? Yes, John. Let us begangiu ame. The lire burns brighter on the" hearth of Dark Ridge now, and bits of ruddy light play ever anion" the deep carving! 01 the mantel. The lire burns brightly in John' heart now, and liits ot life's ruddies! light play ever among the deep earr ings of his face. W. 11. McDougall, in y. Y. Independent. A Safc-BIower's Assurance. ' V t l,3 (.till tWltl MlllUil 11LF nuu metal lnittoro ,m ,U ,.0.u a tlark hin. Tin 11lt? 1 ill lenli.lmiAn il. n avM tern on the inner side of his wrist, anc a belt with a club in it about the size ol a -mall section of a broom-handle. Ht stood at the corner of Clark and Jack- won eti onl .? In iiin!iff !- ". , radli(J Hott.j whn ,ie-ashea a bliml; 1 ef,.,i. r k..i .1 .., .,.': ( cik.-iv ui iijiit, nujin.mi aiuiiy in; ' brown side ot the huge hostelry. II ..i.i.:,i .. ... 1 ,xZt ....i - 1 wiui.imvu .is Liiu ii;ii siiiiii siitiut uii as tollisIie(l porter : lhu faCR at the h()t,y ! . ' ...i ,.., i.:. , :.. , ,. ( w.mK Uaxi acconipli35.ll tTiIs bij , ot- i.lc.,.. : , 1; ,., 1 , ,va,k,H, nort',nv:ir,i n!1 ri:ir,- str,.r. The man with the lantern was uu-u-ually careful in his examination of a door a long distance down the stree from where he started. He chuckled when he had satisliud him-elf that ev erything in the place was all right . Then he said to a companion who had accompanied him all the way: "Three years ago 1 found a man try ing to unlock this door as I came oy with my lantern. When the light 1 Unshed in his face he looked up a good .leal surprised and contused. Then hi -UB .- lit Ii7.4 UU4 VUUIUJliUl .A. 1 V kA Im,,,,....; 'Glad yon came along,' he said to me. 'I needed a little light. Lock'? 1 ,.... ,,,, . ,.1r. ,iM,f ,-r . T..wi, ' u i.'i'.j,., i, " , ..i i. ii iiuni 1111; lauiviu olc.iui uii iiiu iwun - minute or two, if it is not too much trouble. Don't throw it in nry tacn tha way; it blinds me and 1 can'l work. I have to po-t mv books to night, so I came down after supper.' He was a good looking young fello.v. and he was dies.-ed like a clerk. H talked like one. too. So I held the light J for him. and after a few trials he opened the iloor. " 'Much obliged,' he said. 'Cornell and -it down awhile.' "I thanked him, and said I couldir'1 stop. I moved on after seeing him p.i to work at a big ledger. I was uncasj, though, and came back to the store in few minute?. He had turned the light down and was .sinking a steel drill into the lo -k of the safe. He heard me and bolted, but I caught him as he dived through a back window. Then he began to 'jeg. He said the linn employed him as assistant-cashier on i salary ot eighJ dollars a week. He had an aged father and invalid mother denendeiit on him. It was his first offense. He shed tear. He begged me to take him lwfore his ers ployer instead of locking him up. But I didn't. He was behind the bars at quick as I could get him there. Ho proved to be an expert burglar R got ten years." "Do you prevent many burglaries?' "Weil a good many, I suppose, by securing fastenings. People are care less, and leae their doors unlocked auo t,.ir wm,lolvs 0,)Cn sometimes. OlK ; j t r fo.m(i ti10 kev of a store stickim: outside in the lock, of things to look r ... .. . Ih-jre are plenty ifter in the dark". when all the shops are s night." C.ucwjo yeioi. hut up. Good Kecnlling Salainis The most important naval battle at the ancient world was the one which took place between the Persian licet au-J the allied navies of the Greeks. All -J Greece but Sparta had been overrun 1t the Persians, and Xerxes was so certaii if hi- eoniinc victory that he had 1 fc. throne erected, from which he could s,.f the annihilation of the Grecian lle-A which was hemmed in the straits wh'r: lay between the mainland and the ish.r and harbor of Salamis. Had Xer"(7 been victorious the world would bav lost the nio-t splendid page in its hi"v tory, that of Greek civilization aud tP models she produced in every dej.ar ment of human activity for after dgC" to mutate. But the Grecians conquorei and so overwhelming was their victor that Xerxes immediately retreated 1 Asia, and his armies were subsequent1 1 defeated by the combined hosts rt Greece. A'grcat undertaking no'-. under way to thoroughly- o-plore th bottom ot the straits and bay of Sala mis with a icw lo the discovery and reconstruction of the vessels, which have been imbedded in the sands for over two thousand years. Although minutely described, we have still but a taint idea of an ancient mae-of-war. We know they were open boats with three tiers of "row ers. Many of them were rams with beaks to destroy the enemy. The soldiers fought on a plat form or on a deck near the bowsprit The combat was hand-to-hand. With sail and oar these vessels were very swift, especially if the wind helped them. The twenty centuries have doub les!: covered these vessels with layer upon layer of sand and detritus. But still the" di ing apparatus of modern times is so far perfected that these ves sels can be exhumed, and take their place in the museums of the worhl, to show the kind of ships that saved Gre cian civilization from being over whelmed by Asiatic barbarism. Dan orefs Monthly. Christine Xilsson says that she nev er goe.- on the stage without trepida tion, and when she feels weak or has an important part always kneels down and I says her prayers. Temperance Reading. "OXLY THIS TIME." " Only thi- time " Is the ilninknnl's ery. A- lie "t-i-.'ers and reels tbruuli the bar-iii-iiii d ir. Ills lilMd on Mte with ii trotnf ile-ire. " only this time, mid 111 drin no moro." Only this time," says the temp-ed voiith, As I e enters the sr.iniWer's gilded den With n pallid face. "By GodV-vood jjraco 1 ueier will do this tiling ukuiii." Only this time, only this time! " I- the Irenzied cry ot many u -oul That -binds on the brink or a yaw ningr gulf, Till it loses forever its self-coutrol. Only this time." to break God's lnw: " Only this time." to tempt hi?h Heaven; " Only this time." 'neatli dust and prune. To trample the blessings He has giieiu Only this time!" Oh! stop, my friend, Mop. cro j on enter that fatal door, rr lie that koi-s in -hull feel the -tinjr Of the serpent that biteth lorcvennore. .His. M. A. Kuller, in Irtsh Wind. VTIIAT THE FEOPLE PAY FOK LIQUOR. The cost of liquor, in money, to the consumer, the man who drink-over the bar, is the least of its co-t to the coun try, but is well enough to know what the people of the United States are pay ing lor it. in money, aud a comparison of the expenditure lor drink with that for other purposes is instructive. The expenditures for various purposes per annum in ba United Stales are as lollows: $iOO.CX)0.000 .-...V.4J.IJ0.1 S05.0JU UJO : icj uuo.nun 2UJ.I1 M.OlO iir.icxj.txn) M.(4JJ.(X :no.u.)0,u)0 l'.itt.U)l.0UI lVi.lOJ.OlO Missions Home aud Foreign ' I UUa Jit Ul Iron ami steel Woollen iroods aed lumber Cotton jroods Iii-ots and -hoes biiiraratid molim-us Kdiication.it purposes So.t1KJ.(ltXJ Of the entire list of expenditures for living the litpior account amounts to nearly twice as much as any other item. It amounts to nearly twice as much as bread, three times ns much ns ment, and ten times ns much as educntion. It is more than the combined cost of bread and ment, and as much as the combined items of bread aud iron, steel, woolen and cotton goods. These ligurcs are something so enor mous ns to invite a doubt ns to their correctness But if any difference, they are far below what they should be. One hundred millions more could prop erly 1-e put on the top of them and they would still fall below reality. Tne internal rcenue on distilled spirits in 1883 was 678,o6 1,775; the rate is 110 cents a gallon; and the quantity of liquor taxed is, therefore, 8'l,C:il,'jfi gallons. Some of this, a very small percentage, was u-ed for scientific and mechanical purposes, but the most oj it was drank in the murder factories. Sold by the glass it would cost the con sumer about -?6 a gallon. The whole amount, at this rate, would aggregate iyo,7Ul,83".'. Ihe same year the tax on fermented liquors amounted to -16,-!00,61.', which at i-fl.OO per barrel; rep resents an equal number oi barrels con taining, at 31 gallons per barrel, 52:,-9LU,u6.- gallons. At five cents a glass, and V2 glasses to the gallon, this costs the consumer $314,351,43!). The im ported liquors, estimated on a similar basis, cost the consumer at least $100, 000,000, which brings the total cost up to more than $D00.0O'J,000. In this estimate no account is taken of native wines, nor of liquor, "croo'ked whisky," and other which escapes tax ation; nor the dishonest watering of l'quors, all of which the ragged con sumer pays for as whisky. But let this go to otl'set that used in the arts and sciences. These estimates are all too low. The.ro are in a gallou of whisky, as they aver age, 100 drinks instead of CO, and '20 glases of beer to the gallon instead of 12, and the prices average a long way above 10 cento. The price of alcoholic drinks is never below 10 cents, and it runs up all the way to 40. At the bars in all the so-called respectable .-aloons the price for common varieties of whisky is 15 cents, and extra qualities JO to 25. The fact that it is all drawn out of the same barrel makes no difference. It is the label on the bottle that fixes the price. It is perfectly safe to add another $100,000,000 to the estimate, and to put the actual expenditure of the people of the United States for alcoholic stimu lants at one thousand millions of dollars! In this there is no account taken of the direct cost resulting from the use of liquors. Add to it the loss to the country- in the impaired capacity for labor of rum and beer drinkers. Add to it the cost of ninety per cent, of the courts aud police. Add to it the cost of ever-recurring riots, liko that in Cincinnati, which would be impossible without rum. Add to it the cost of a very large per cent, of the expenditures for insane asylums, poor-hotises, penitentiaries, houses of correction and reformatories of all kinds. Add to it the cost of the trials or mur derers and of executions, ninety per cent, of which is to be carried to this already enormous account. Add to it the cost to the country of the rotten political rings, all of which are based upon rum and topped out by it. Add to it the cost of maintaining the hordes of gamblers, thieves, outcasts and in fact the entire criminal class who are first brought to vice and crim inality by rum, and who afterward de pend upon it as their chief stay. These additions make an array of figures entirely beyond human under standing, and this is only a part of the money account. Vast as is this there are other effects that are far.beyond it. Add to this money loss the blighting, yearly, of the lives of thousands upon thousands of the best men aud women of the country. Add to it the cold hearth stones, the shoeless women, the rags, squalor and mi-cry that are inseparable from rum and beer. Adtl to it the desolate homes, the heart-broken women, the children reared in ignorance and vice to swell the account of pauperism in this gen eration, aud criminality in the next Add to it every th ngthat is miserable :n life, everything that is destructive of all that is good in man. and some idea may be formed of the l elation mm bears to the country. The loss in wealth, enormous as it is. is the least item in the account. Toledo Blade The Rising: Ware. It is to be hoped that the indications of increa-ing earnestness among the people concerning the curse of drink: m:? k th advent of a National awaken ing of conscience oi: this sub cct, anil that though the movement miy at first he slow, it will proceed tint 1 the extent and proportions of the evil are so fully realized as to insure effective remedial action. For it is only through the gen eral appreciation of" the abuse that a sentiment poweiful enough to suppress it, and resolute enough to keep it sup pressed, can be brought to bear. In the deepening demand for high license can be perceived the growth of such a spirit of active resistance. Not too soon, in deed, for the evil has fairly saturated the body politic, and its "elimination must be exceedingly difficult. But who can fail to see that the strenuous efforts of all the hotter elenieuts of the Nation after higher things in education, in pol itics in social and domestic life, are continually checked and aborted by the deba-ing influence of drink in its myri ad manifestations. An ignorant suf frage is bad enough, but it may be mended. But ignorance steeped in whisky is a diabolical prescription for poisoning free government; and eduea tion docs not defend us against the drink evil. When we have done our best for our boys, and they set out to take a part in the government of their country, they find that the entrance to polities is through the door of the sa loon, and that the men who in our great cities wield the largest political influ ence are those whose connection with the bottle is the closest. The bar of the saloon is the modern Witeiiagemot It is there that the voters meet to consider their course, to receive instructions from their leaders, and to drink away the intelligence that should have showed them the humilia tion of their position; and throughout our politics this malign and bnitalizing influence is felt. From the caucus to the convention, fiom the State Legis lature to Congress, the power and pres sure of drink "are manifest. The reform inea-ures which wisdom and patriot ism demand nm-t be submitted to the allies and stipendiaries of those whose whole existence is pledged against every- civili.ing agency, and for whom National purification means extinction and death. Nor is the prospect much better outside of politics. The toiling masses, whose utmost thr"ft" can barely secure modest comfort. :ve solicited, anil too successsfully. to squander their hard-earned wages for drink, and aro sneered at as effeminate if they refuse, Tribute must be paid to the saloon :y the city laborer who seeks municipal employ. The tired artisan who visits the suburbs on buuuay lor fresh air and change is beset with temptations to drink. The callow youth who de sires to "ses life" is taught that intoxi cation is a necessary concomitant ol "fun." The daily and hourly lessons et before us ought to convince tha least thoughtful of the need of reform Drunken mothers reeling through the streets. Drunken fathers beating their wives, or killing themselves in de lirium. Everywhere waste and ex travagance and sorrow and poverty and degradation and crime traceable to this one evil. Partial and spasmodic efforts can not rid us of the curse. The whole people mut 1 e infuamed'with a living enthusi asm for better things before the mon strous evil can be overcome. It is not a question of a short campaign, but of & patient, persistent, determined and pro longed efiort It will have to be mado if civilization is to advance, and so much the better if the stir and murmur which come to our ears now from all part-- of the country signalize the rising of the wave which when it culminates shall sweep this deep-seated abuse from the face of the earth. N. Y. Tribun. Temperance Legislation in the South. The intelligent and wealthy States of the North can learn a great deal by studying the methods that have been followed in some of the old Confederate States in dealing with the Temperance problem. In several of them strong Tax laws and License laws have been enacted with little or no discussion, and the liquor tratlic has thus been placed under the regulation of the police. The last session of the Mississippi Legisla ture took up the subject of dealing with habitual drunkards, and.'with scarcely any debate, enated a very wise law. It empowers riie chancellors of courts to decide who are drankards, to havethem arrestcd with or without complaint from relatives or friends, to appoint guardians for their estates, or to order them into confinement in an asylum, or reformatory in or out of the State. The action of the chancellors is almost dis cretionary, but will, it is calculated, de pend largely upon the wishes of the relatives and friends of the drunkard. If any one informs the chancellor that a man is abusing or neglecting his family, is wasting his fortune or ruining him self and his business through driuking, such individual at once becomes a sub ject of judicial attention and steps may be taken to secure his reform before he is too far gone. This law makes drunkenness a crime, as it should be. Before it has been in operation long its tendency will be to make drunkenness an indelible stain upon a man's character. His arrest will be a disgrace which he can only outlive by years of strict sobriety and good conduct, and it will not be long before every one in the State will seek to avoid such disgrace. Cleveland Herald, Temperance Items. "Give me," said Samuel Dexter, "the money drawn from the pockets of our citizens for the support of drunken paupers, and I will pay the expenses of the State and National Governments and grow rich on the surplus." "Great Heavens!" exclaimed the saloon keeper, "make der.lers responsi ble for damages committed by drunk ards! Do they want to ruin 'the busi ness and banknipt the whole of us? We never could stand it, not if we were Rothschilds, every one." Boston Post. A niSTiNGUi-HED clergyman in one of onr Knstern cities was met bv a dilap-iitated-looking individual, with a flask of whisky in his pocket, who inquired: "Sir, is this the nearest road to the alms-house?" "No, sir," replied the clergymau, pointing to the bottle, "but that is." v m: ft I L-4 -i .-J c t , ! . v y u .& m HA. &&&& 'in1- rmx -" r 23SESSBC M