Nebraska Newspapers

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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
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