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About The Columbus journal. (Columbus, Neb.) 1874-1911 | View Entire Issue (Sept. 27, 1882)
THE JOURNAL. WEDNESDAY. r-EPT. -J7. 12 rr.cr:d st the ?c:uZ:c, Ccisskss. elJi sr.::r. LTcc, a: The Best Side. Everybody has a best side, and every body has an ugly side ; some people have several ugly sides. There are those so amiable or so well trained, or so self contained.that they, rarely show jagged -nes's on -any side. But these are rare. The ide'al gentleman never forgets what is due to himself, never forgets what is due to others. So of the ideal lady. We do sometimes find these ideal person ages in real life, but r&rely. Ordinary people make up, or try to, for coarse ness in the kitchen by refinement in the parlor, and are more courteous to their betters than is due. that they may atone for scant courtesy to their inferiors, or those they deem such. There are very few natures so purged, so disciplined, so chastened by religion, or any other force, that upon greater or less provo cation the unhallowed passion within them will not glare forth from their eyes, crimson in their cheeks, tremble in their limbs, quiver in their voices.or gnaw silently at their vitals. For with in us all slumber or lie in ambush wait ing a favorable opportunity to spring forth at least ten deadly sins forbidden in the Decalogue. However perfectly one may seem outwardly to conform to the requirements of high morality and lofty virtue, where lives tho human be ing but daily needs to utter the petition, "Lead us not into temptation, but de liver us from evil," but needs to smite upon his breast and exclaim, "God be merciful to me, a sinner?" Alike beneath the polished exterior of conventional courtesy and the rough exterior of "no manners at all" is the ceaseless conflict of passion, interest, duty, ambition, conscience, waging; in my lady's elegant boudoir, and in the attic devoted to menial servants. The conflict is one, though in different parts of the field , one unuer velvet and calico, under broadcloth and jeans. No appetite or passion of the human mind or body is in itself wrong. Every one was planted there by the beneficent Creator for the good of the possessor, and, rightly indulged and exercised, re sults in good. But without the possi bility of vice there c&n be no virtue. The greatest men that have lived have been men of large appetites and pas sions, who have brought them under control, who have harnessed them to the chariot of reason, subjugated thein to the yoke, made them obedient to check and rein. We have inspired authority for the fact that even the Spotless One was "tempted in all oarts like as we are." It is not strange that hearts burning with hate, intlamed with resentment, torn by conflctinjj passion, or wearied by sorrow, by ill-health, by baffled hopes and disappointed expectations, should sometimes unconsciously or carelessly permit the gaze of the passer by. With such hearts we are coming into more or less intimate contact nil the time, and how to make that contact kindly and helpful is a question always important to the lover of his kind. We may exaggerate the woes of others by i our bearing and manner, or we may soothe, restrain, heal the wounded heart. We are all our "brother's keeper," whether he accept the trust or not. If we reject it, we too may hear the voice of his blood crying to God from the ground. The mother is continually called on to come into most intimate contact with the various members of her house hold, to compose disputes, to harmonize conflicting interests, to sootiic per turbed spirits, to help them that have lost control of themselves to regain it, to help those who have never gained control of themselves to acquire it, to subdue the refractory, to guide the un ruly, to disipline the disobedient, to distil from all the various complex ele ments thrown into her crucible that di vine essence we call Home. She, and she only,who sedulously, from principle and by habit, cultivates that which is noblest and best in herself can call out that which is noblest and best in those around her. Only by repressing and overcoming that in herself which is evil can she compel and secure the repres sion and restraint of that which is evil in those under her guardian care. She is the mirror In umiph hfr hmiciihmil will glass themselves. As she is, such i will they unconsciously shape them- i selves. The showing of her best side to them willinfalliblv comnelthem to show I their best side to her. And how can she do ! those she loves and would serve a greater kindness than by habitually calling out the best there is in them ? It is wise to seek the companionship of individuals who put us on our best beliavior, who call out the best im pulses and aspirations and purposes within us, and to avoid those who kindle or quicken our consciousness of lower and baser impulses. Solitude is Infinitely better than bad companion ship. But with the multitude of cheap reprints of oiir best authors one never need be alone or in unworthy company. X. Y Tribune. Seven flours iu a Coffin. Seven hours in a coffin added ten years to my life," was the singular re mark made to your correspondent on Thursday last, -which resulted this morn ing in the unfolding of a most remarka ble tale of adventure. Martin Strong, a shoemaker living or rather dying at his brother's house, on Twelfth street, told for the first time of a horrible ex- Serience through which he pa-sed in ia summer of 18G8, when he was pro nounced dead by his physician, and came within an ace of being buried alive. Strong has suffered for several years with an affection of the spine. He ha been unable to attend to his business for several years because of the ailment, and now appears to be on the verge of the grave. "I will tell you all that I remember," said the shoemaker, as he gulped down a half-tumblerful of bran dy and water, "but I object to having anything published iw a newspaper, and I don't thank my old doctor for sending you here.. In the month of .June, 1SGS, I was taken violently ill with a terrible pain at the base of the brain, and a chilliness all the way down the spinal column. I then lived in a room on South street, and had a shop on Ridge avenue. About the middle of .fune, I took to bed and called in Dr. Harker (who died a few years ago, by the way), and after ward Dr. Cummings, now living, 1 be lieve, near Camden. Neither of them appeared to know what ailed me. I became delirious, and remained in that state from the 28th of June to the 4th of July. I remember distinctly awaking on that morning and hearing "the noise of fireworks. In the afternoon tho queer feeling in my backbone increased, and by sundown I felt as though I wa paraiyzea irom me necK uown. l re mained in that state until nine o'clock the next morning, and then the chilly feeling began extending all over my body. I lost all power of motion, and could not even open my mouth or eyes. Still I heard everything going on about me. Dr. Cummings held my pulse, and I heard him tell ray brother thai I would probably live until noon. " At eleven o'clock for I heard the clock strike a shiver seemed to go through me, and my brother lifted my head. I heard the" doctor say: -He's going now, I think.' I conld not utter a sound nor move a muscle. Then I felt the doctor unbutton my night-shirt and place his ear above my heart. He raised his head in a moment and said : H's gone.' My God, how 1 did try to move at that moment, but it was no use; I couldn't oven as much as wink. My body must have been old, to give the idea of death, but I did not feel the cold, except in the region of my spine. My supposed dead body was covered with a sheet and placed in the middle of the bed. My brother then locked up the house and went out. Now, what hap pened almost immediately afterward ia so very strange and incredible that I must ask you to believe it simply on my word alone, because I would not insult your intelligence by such a stupendous statement unless it were true. I lay there thinking of the awful agony I would endure should they bury me alive, i seemed to live a lifetime, and the mental torture was the most terrible you can imagine. My brother had been gone about ten minutes, I should judge, when suddenly I felt :i new sensation. My back seemed as though it was being pricked by hundreds of needles, and I felt a warmth creeping down my back bone. This warmth extended gradually to other parts of the body, and involun tarily I gave a great sigh. That simple action brought back the suspended functions of life, and the next instant I had thrown the sheet off and was on my feet, r was still weak, and sat down ia a chair to think. Then I knelt down and offered up a prayer of thankful ness. These feelings were now succeed ed by the jolliest humor imaginable. I felt so good that I coultt hardly restrain myself from opening the window and shouting for joy, but I restrained my self and sat still. Then it occurred to me that it would be a harmless joke to surprise my brother, the doctor, and the world in general by suddenly rising out of the coffin, if I could maintain my equanimity long enough for them to put me in it. The more I thought of the scheme the more I liked it, and actually laughed aloud as I imagined the horror stricken countenances of the people at seeing a dead man rise up and speak. My brother might return at any mo ment, so to carry out the plan success fully I lay down again and had the sheet ready to draw ovei my face the moment I heard him come in. I sup pose I remained in that position for twenty minutes or more, when the front door opened and shut, and I heard foot steps ascending the stairs. I waited until he had nearly reached the top and then attempted to draw up the sheet, which covered me to the waist. Great heavens! I could not move a fin ger. Like a flash that same old chilly feeling came upon me, and I was, to all intents and purposes a dead man again. My ghastly joke nearly resulted in a horrible fate. My brother, the moment he entered the room, went to a closet and took out a Bible. 'When he sees the disarranged sheet,' I thought, 4he will suspect something, and take means to awaken me;' but he didn't seem to notice anything, but covered my face again, an'd then, sitting down, began to read. If tho agony before my revival was horrible, this was superlative. My brain seemed on fire from tho intensity of thinking. At five o'clock in the af ternoon the door-bell rang, and my brother answered it. .My horror was complete when I heard my brother say: I want the funeral to take place in the ; morning, so it will not bo necessary to put him in ice, although the weather is warm. Just be kind enough to have everything arranged to-night.' Then he went down stairs, and the undertaker brought up a plain walnut coffin. I was washed, dressed and placed in the coffin without being able to even twitch an eyebrow in protest. I shall never forget that night. It was an eternity. I heard the State-house clock strike the mid night hour,and all the weird stories about ghosts and the dead ch.ised through my aImot frantic brain. It would fill a volume to tell how I suffered. On the following morning at nine o'clock my brother and a few friends were assem bled in the front down-slairs room. I was in the coffin upstairs, when again did that feeling come over me as on the day before. Again I sighed and came back again to life, just as my brother entered the room. He seemed to take in the situation at a glance, and, closing tiie door after him, locked it. Of course he embraced me, and then, in his eccen tric way, went out and told ray half dozen shoemaker friends that there would be no funeral, that I was not dead, and that he had summoned them merely to test their friendship. Know ing his oddities the men believed him and went away. The undertaker was sent for, and the doctor. While they were not pledged to secrecy, it was gen era iy umtemoou mat nothing was to oe sa"1;. f?r m-v ,)rotrher s sak V'10 d?te?ts P"--city i any form, so if you insist uPon s:i,nS anything m the paper stick ll aw-iy in some corner." Dr. Uum corroborated the strange story mings fully, and the undertaker, while he re refused to talk about it at all, would not deny it directly. The strangest part of the whole affair is the fact that it has never been brought to light before. PhiUule' phia Cor. N. Y. News. Death lo Flies in One-half Hoar. Heretofore one of the greatest of our trials in summer has been in the keep ing of our dining room and kitchen free from flies. It is a rule with us that nets shall be in all opened windows and that the net doors must be kept closed, and there is no deviation from this. But careful as we might be the pests would get in. We have brushed until shoul ders and arm were lame and hands blis tered; have used various fly-catchers, sticky fly paper and poison fly paper, discarding the latter several times on account of its poisonous properties and disgusting effeets.but returning to it be cause we did not know what else to do. We will say that our house is very sunny, light and airy we have no blinds, and can not darken the rooms and so keep the flies out. A short time ago we became alive to the necessity of throwing away once for all the fly pa per, having been convinced that it was impregnated with a solution of arsenic. Knowing the. elficacy of Persian insect powder Pyrethruni roseum or cinera; folium in destroying insect life, we closed the windows and doors of the dining-room, sprinkled a large handful of this powder upon a few live coals and retired to await results. The smoke was quite dense for two hours, yet at the end of that time not one fly was dead, they were somewhat weak in the legs, but soon revived. After this failure we next purchased a small insect powder bellows for one dollar, half filled the receptacle with powder and blew it all around the room, making a fine dust. Soon a buzzing was heard, as when a fly is caught in a spider's web, only louder, and in one half hour every fly in the room was dead. The fly season is now robbed of its terrors for us, for a few puffs of the bellows eich morning before sweeping keeps our rooms free from flies. The powder costs GO cents per pound at wholesale, but with care will last some time, for gentle puffs of the powder answer every purpose, as it is only nec essary to blow it once where the flies can breath it. Cor. Sural New Yorker. The great mortality resulting from the use of pistols by boys last Fourth of July has led to prohibitive ordinances in about half the cities of the country. The following, first enacted by Boston, is the form usually followed : "No per son shall sell to any child under the age of sixteen years, without the written consent of a parent or guardian of such child, any cartridge of fixed ammunition of which any fulminate is a component part, or any gun, pistol or other me chanical contrivanqe arranged for the explosion of such cartridge or of any fulminate." The penalty varies from a light fine to a heavy one", with impris onment. N. . Sun. Fashion Items. Inflated skirts are looming up. Persian mauve is a color which keeps its favor in the world of fashion. Pink silk stockings and low-cutpatent leather shoes are considered to be in high style, with archery costumes. Young ladies in Paris dress almost entirely in white costumes. When color is worn it is sejii upon the sash, or in the lloral garniture. French evening dresses of soft white Victoria silk ure sometimes arranged with a graceful scarf drapery of the silk crossing the bodice diagonally, and then forming a panier at one side, while at the other side brightermaterial of striped fauze, spangled tulle, or lace is also raped a panier. Of all the modes of bonnets introduced in the beginning of the season, the one which has proved the most popular is the trim little French bonnet of last year, in various modifications; the capote, the jaunty little princess, and a shape much resembling the Marie Staurt bon net, but not so pronounced in its pointed dent upon the brim. Cashmere pattern bands are quite in favor, and are likely to be more so as the autumn approaches. Most of these imported Indian trimmings, with dress fabric en suite, are of sufficiently high price to add considerable value to the possession of a toilet of this kind. These rieh Oriental trimmings are employed ouly on dark dresses, or those of neutral tint, Black failles, satins, poplins, watered silk, and also thinner materials; such as grenadines, silk gauzes and tulle, are all in high fashion. Black silk skirts covered withgrenadinepmesand bouil lonnes, and accompanied by silk or satin casaques or Jacquettes trimmed with black Spanish lace and jet, make thor oughly elegant toilets, enabling the wearer to vary them by colored trim mings and floral garniture if desired. Painted lace is very much employed on light dresses of one or more colors, such as pale blue merveilleux and pale pink Moire; the painted lace, colored to correspond with these two shades, would, however, only be used to trim the principal portions of the dress the sleeves, bodice and edgings to the drapery. The flounces, panels, or any thing requiring a large amount of gar niture, would be of the same lace with the designs left uncovered. The short skirts for the summer are trimmed at the edge with voluminous niches, chicorees, shell plaits, coquilles and the like, either of the same or a different material. Many skirts are trimmed nearly to the waist all around alike, or have different arrangements for the front and back, separated by panels. Those trimmed all around are invariably accompanied by the Spanish scarf tied at the back and draped at the extreme edge of the pointed bodice, or just under the basque which fall over the skirt Sleeves are excessively short, and gloves correspondingly long. Dress skirts areshrinkingupwara.beingshort enough all around to display the handsome tint ed and embroidered stocking, as well as the shoe. Boots are seldom worn with evening dress, and satin is the favorite material for the very fashionable Beatrice sandals' many of which have floral de signs painted on the front, and occasion ally along the sides as well. A pretty foot looks far better witli a flat decora tion than to be heaped up with bows, rosettes, and huge buckles. But when there is little or no instep, and the foot has no arch, the addition of these loops and clasps is, of course, an improve ment N. Y. Evening Pout. Disposing f Poor Stock Poor stock is quite likely to accumu late on farms. There is always a demand for superior animals of every kind. Some horse-trader is certain "to have his eye on" a promising colt from the time it is first foaled. The local butcher will be tolerably sure to notice the earliest and best lambs in the flock and to "speakfor them" as soon as they are large enough to be slaughtered. lie will also ask the owner "to name the price" for the best steers, fat wethers and pigs. In nearly every part of the country dairymen go about "picking up" young cows that are known to be deep milkers, and they are generally willing to give high prices for very promising heifers. Often the price offered for good dairy stock is such that the farmers are tempted to dispose of their best cows and heifers and are left with very poor milkers to supply the family with dairy products. Dairymen have learned the difference in value be tween a cow that will give twenty quarts of milk in a day and one that will furnish only half that amount. They know that there is no profit in keeping cows that can not produce and maintain a large milking record. They are generally ready to offer what seems to be a very large price for cows that will give an un commonly large amount of milk. If a horse raised on a farm develops remark able speed under ordinary management, some fancier is quite likely to think that he can make money in buying it and training it for the turf. There is now a great demand for very heavy horses in cities, and those that can draw heavy burdens are quite likely to be bought by local dealers for shipping to cities and large towns where a large amount of heavy teaming is carried on. As a con sequence, the best animals are sold to persons who come to the farm to bay them, and the most inferior ones remain. Many farmers are prone to keep cattle, sheep, and sometimes hogs till the period when they have little value in any market They accordingly continue to feed them long after they have "outlived their use fulness." When they become aware of the fact that they are no longer profitable they seek to sell them, but can find no purchaser. They then think about fat tening them, but the season is so far ad vanced that the grass nearly is all gone, and they must be prepared for the butcher bv feeding them grain or other expen sive sorts of food. It is often the case that an animal fattened on corn and other expensive kinds of food will not bring as much as the food costs. It is not fed to them till the weather be comes cold and most of the fattening material it contained is consumed in gen erating heat or repairing the waste in the system. In many cases the teeth of the animals are poor aud thev are not able to chew their food properly. In other cases their digestive apparatus is im paired, and the grain they eat produces little fat or muscle. Firmers, or the members of their families, often become attached to certain animals and keep them, not for the good they now do, or for any they are expected to do in the future, but for the good they have done. This sort of senti mentality is commendable, as it gives evidence of kindly feelings, but it is very expensive, and an indulgence in it to a considerable extent will be very certain to render a stock-raiser poor. With rare exceptions ouly quite young animals are profitable to keep. Every farm animal reaches an age when its value begins to steadily decline, no matter how well it may be fed and cared for. What is true of animals is also true of all kinds of fowls. All kinds of farm stock shoidd be dis posed of before this period of decline is reached. Only animals and fowls in good vigor can be fattened easily, and made to bring a fair price in the market Farmers would do well at this season of the year to carefully look over the live stock "they have and determine what animals aud fowls are profitable to keep over another winter. Meat of all kinds is high, and that afforded by inferior animals will probably sell for as much the coming fall and winter as it will at any future time. Farmers often winter animals and find that they are worth les in the spring than they were in the previous fail. They have eaten a large amount of hay and grain, and required a great amount of care, and have been subjected to mtny dangers, but are not able to command tho price they would several months before. There is nolh iug to show for the food they have eaten except a few loads of manure. The recr.nl of the cows kept for giving mill; should be carefully examined, aud if it is not good the inferior animals should ba prepared for the butcher. Few persons engaged in general farming keep good dairy stock. They have ordinarily sev eral "general purpose" cows that is, cows that will breed calves of fair quali ty as beef-producers, and which will give some milk for quite a limited period. They are not cows, however, which an intelligent dairyman would keep for a term of years, even if he could obtain them as a gift. These in ferior milkers should be converted into beef, and their places supplied by cows that will give double the amount of milk. Most flock-masters agree in the opinion that it is not desirable to keep sheep that can be converted into mutton after they are four years old. They will pro duce large fleeces and drop good lambj after that time, but their value as meat producing animals will begin to decline. It will require more food, and that of a better quality, to fatten them as they be come old. aud their uesn will be of less value. As to fowls, no one wishes ta buy those that are old, however fat they may be. Chicago Times. Journalism aud Women. No work is more strangely and more curiously misunderstood than that re quired by journalism. It not onlv re quires special talent of a high order, but the greatest amount of technical disci pline, general information, adaptability, quickness of diction, and fertility of re sources. With all this it requires, too, what is almost a sixth sense; the mental habit of keen analysis and swift combi nation. While these qualifications are, in their perfection, the result of experi ence, they must also be natural gifts. The journalist, even as the poet, is born, not made. The young woman who as pires to do "critical literary work" would, upon trial, probably be found incompe tent to write a local paragraph satisfac torily. If she is earnest in her desire to enter journalism she must be content to begin at the beginning. She must real ize the importance of that sympathetic perception, graphic delineation, aud power of representation that character ize the able reporter. It is a department whose discipline is invaluable and whose scope it may well be a young woman's aspiration to ably fill, anil there is not the slightest danger of her work being too good for it the anxiety should be to have it sufficiently good. If the aspiring young woman is ready to begin in the simplest manner, and bring her best abilities to whatever she is set to do, she may, in time, grow to other work. That de pends wholly on innate ability and her power of perseverance. Again, the professional journalist is as often amazed as amused over the atti tude taken by the young woman whose contribution he rejects. Now, it is an unwritten law well understood in jour nalism that no editor is under the slight est obligation to give a reason for hia acceptance or non-acceptance of a man uscript. He is not called upon to write a private critique on the article to the author of it. His acceptance or rejection is an absolute and unquestionable fact. Among amateur writers this does not appear to be understood. "The art icle is hardly available for the columns of the Daily Designer" writes the editor of that journal. Now that is sufficient. That should end the matter. The article may be better in some respects than a dozen others he accepts, but if he be in any sense worthy of his place he has an innate intuition of subtle fitness and in tellectual adjustments.- which he could no more communicate than he could put his mental life on exhibition. Moreover, there is not the slightest necessity of his communicating them. But his contrib utor cannot let the matter rest. Perhaps she has written a book, and she is not gratified with his review of it. She must write him a letter deprecating his judg ment. She wants to know if he has read her book carefully. She tells him the Critical 'Connoisseur gave two col umns of extracts from it, and that she thinks it too bad, she does, that lie re ferred to it so unkindly. She favors him with nine pages of her views on his con duct She alludes touchingly to the fact thatsevenof her dcarestlady friends each sent her a copy of the Dailif De signer thatcontained his cruel allusion to her volume on "Transatlantic Hurri canes," and she begs him to devote one little half hour to Tier production and then write fairly of it. All sub-editors and reporters understand that it is an unjustifiable impertinence to ask the managing editor his reason for publish ing or not publishing any matter sub mitted to his judgment Outside writers and aspiring amateurs rarely seem to comprehend this truth, and their trans gressions are largely from ignorance rather than from intention. The nature of editorial work requires absolute power of decision in order to preserve the unit ies of the journal the editor conducts, and the amateur contributor should not permit his amour propre to incite hm to open any discussion regarding the justice of the editorial judgment Boston Cor. Chicago Tribune. Brother Gardner on Politicians. "Bewar' of de pollytishun! If he am black, go outer yer way to shun him. If he am white, lock yer doahs an' load yer shotguns." The old man paused here to look into his desk for a piece of slippery-elm. and Waydown Beebe took advantage of the opportunity to rise and inquire: "Does the chair refer to a white man named Seeker Jackson?" "Yes. de Cha'r refers to dat werry pusson," replied the President. "Fur tie las' fo' weeks he has bin de plague ol my life. I understau' dat he kalkerlates to' run fur State Senator nex' fall, and he am now try-in' to make hisself solid wid de cull'd element; an' I furdei understau' dat he has petishuned dis club for membership; an' dat he am buyin' rattleboxes, tin whis'les un' mouth-organs fur cullud babies in ordei to gain de esteem of deir parients. Gem'len, I desiah " At that moment the sounds of a wrangle were heard in the ante-room, a struggle took place, and the voice of Seeker Jackson was heard crying out: "Let go of my hair or I'll call the police. My platform is: 'Three dollars a barrel for flour, six hoops on a barrel, and a horse and carriage to take the laboring man to his daily toil?' " At a signal from Brother Gardner Samuel Shin and Giveadam Jones passed out and in two or three seconds after there were sounds of breaking glass, a bump! bump! on the stairs, and then s voice floated up from the dark alley, sav ing: "You can throw me down stairs every night in the week if you want to! All I ask is that you vote solid for Seekei Jackson on election day." "Pollyticks," softly observed the Presi dent "means lyin', stealin', cheatin', swindlin'. It means degradashun. It means loss of self-respect It means whisky, drunkenness, fightin', stabbiu', an' rollin' in de mud. Keep out of polly ticks. Keep away from pollytishuns. U dis Seeker Jackson attempts to enter de sacred portals of dis hall agin de keepei of de pass-word am heah-by authorized to pulverize him an' sell de pulveriza shun to de rag-man at two cents i pound." From Proceedings of Lime kiln Club in Detroit Free Press. Judge Ramsey, of Lyons, N. Y., has sentenced a murderer to be hang on Thursday instead of following the old time superstition. He claims credit fot breaking away from the custom. Old Malils. It is less than forty years since that courteous gallant and fopling of phrases, Mr. N. P. Willis, characterized the class of single women as "The Dried-ups." One can not imagine a writer of equal reputation. a gentleman of equal breed ing committing such a discourtesy to day. From his point of view it was as if a hunchback should be taunted with his bent spine, or a cross-eyed man with his obliquity of vision: for he assumed that unmarried women were celibate be cause they wore so plain, so poor in charms, so unattractive, that no man would marry them. If literature and society are better mannered now, regarding single women with courtesy and often with admiration, it is because our theo ries about them are made to square more nearly with our facts. It is matter of common observation that in every circle some of its most delightful members are maidens past their youth. They are cultivated, witty, gracious, hospitable, charmingly dressed, dimpantc, from the rufTat their throats to the rosettes on their slippers. Are these the women whom men pass by? Or there, are those others who do not choose society, but who are the dea ex machina in so many households, the power behind the throne greater than the throne itself; the incar nate judgment wisdom, economy, liber ality of the family. Are ineu so dull that they do not see how these bountiful ones hold happiness in their hands and scatter it broadcast? Thackeray, that tenderest of cynics, that most serious of jesters, declared that any woman might marry any man, if she would. And it is certainly true that most old maids have declined to pay the price of marriage. The just cause and impediment which have with held them from the holy estate of matri mony have been from within, not from without. They certainly do not hold themselves too good fo marry. They concede that true marriage is the ideal state. But it has been their fortune not to lind that other half ami fulfillment of themselves whose coming could alone justify the vowing of vows. They are too honest, too brave, aud too pure to use marriage as a make-shift. And it is plain that there cannot be in existence more thoughu'ul, more large-hearted, more self-sacrificing, more modest, ten der and truthful women than these. As the world comes to see that a woman is as separate an entity, as dis tinct an individuality, as a man, it will pay less and less regard to her accidents aud more to herself. It will not take it for granted that she has had a "disap pointment" at a tender age, or buried lierTouthfuI lover, or been the victim of a "misunderstanding," if she write her self Mis at forty. Nor will it audibly wonder why a charming woman is un married after twenty-five. It will ad mire her for her admirableness, whether expressed approbation or not. It will permit her to live her own life. But though it was the old notion of feminine incompleteness and subjection which made the lot of single women a reproach to the unthinking, they them selves have not been blameless. Their patience has been loo endless, their meekness too long-suffering, their sub mission too complete. Almost with one accord have they consented to efface themselves, as the French say. grieving the while in silence that married sisters and preoccupied brothers-in-law and gay young nieces alas, that even disap pointed parents were so ready to efface them. For there is a certain sanction in acceptance. When they acquiesce in the general verdict that they are nobodies, they enter the final judgment. Self-sacrifice is a virtue much mis understood. To deny one's self for a great end, to help the weak, to relieve the burdened, that is heroic. But only to sew for the idle, to take steps for the inconsiderate, to pamper vanity and folly with endless services, to be an un paid upper servant for inappreciative kindred, to make one's self of no ac count that selfishness may prosper, this is slavish, and perpetuates tyranny. This degrades ami belittles her who ministers. as it inflates and misleads her who is ministered unto. The single woman may maintain that precious dignity of bearing which com mands respect. If her plate be below the salt, it is left her to prove that where MacGregor sits is the head of the table. Nor should she slight her dress, and put away from her the ornaments and graces of life. They are her armor and de fense, her argument and appeal. For it is for her to show, in her own person, how much more is the woman than the wife, and how incontestable is her right to a place in the house, in society, and in the world. All women love love. The hope of a home of her own, of a fond husband and the touch of baby hands stirs early in every maiden's heart. It is with a sense of loss and hardship that she sees that hope fade without fruition, when "the Urxl of bound, Who sets to seas a shore. Comes to her in His silent round And says: "No more." But life is full of compensations. It is left her to enjoy, to labor, and to aspire. Perhaps it is left her to illustrate, as her more fettered married sister can not, the real capacity, the actual power of achievement, of her sex. Harper's Uazar. Exceptional Weather. A season of unusual character is sure to call forth, even from persons of much experience, the observation that they re member nothing like it before. In truth, the power of accurately recalling past weather is excessively rare; and, m the pbsence of precise records, the memories even of the oldest inhabitant must be received with doubt The weather which is fine we accept as a matter of course, and forget it as soon as it is over: while that which is the reverse of fine scarcely produces a more permanent impression. It is said, by those who have studied such subjects, that no effort of memory can recall a vivid impression of past pain, and there is probably much truth in the statement. The power of appeal ing correctly to experience, which super ficial people regard as an elementary gift of nature, is, in fact, a product of the highest intellectual cultivation, and is simply impossible to the illiterate or the untaught There may be no inten tion to deceive, but there is" an incapacity to observe or record with accuracy. Astronomers tell us that the regions "of the earth which now enjoy a temperate 'climate will at some remote future pass once more through a glacial epoch; but it is a favorite assertion with the aged that the climate of these islands is mani festly diminishing in severity. There are no such winters now, we hear, as those of the "good old times," when scarcely a December passed in which the Squire's horses were not requisitioned in order to assist in dragging the mail coach out of the snowdrifts, or the able- bodied men of the parish to cut a passage for it with their picks and spades. Two years ago the snow in Oxford Street might have rivaled, even if it did not surpass, the best achievements of Salis bury Plain in the days of our grand fathers; and the truth probably is that the seasons move very much in cycles, the causes of which we may hope that meteorology will some day unravel. London Times. "What have you been doing since I last saw you?" "I've been attending a course of free lectures." " A course of free lectures?" "Yes, I was married a week after we parted." Brooklyn Eagle. The Albany "(N.V.) Journal de clares that a lovely young rosebud of a cadet at West Point is "tne owner of 120 pair of white duck trousers." The Chloral Habit. The very extensive and habitual nseof seduc'ive drowsy drugs bearing Govern ment passports pa-ticilarly chloral in the iinoh.ui-ved und uvurreuts of the do m stie life of our tiuus is, perhaps littlo generally known, but that it is a very ex tensive an 1 daily increasing evil, much encouraged and greatly facilitated by the pivseut condition of the medicine stamp aud medicine license acts, is beyotj 1 doubt or question, aud a custom and habit known to medical men as the "chloral habit" is thus engendered, more enslaving and more fraught with sad re sults than the habits of alcohol-drinking or opium-eating. The first dose may perhaps be prescribed in the ordinary course of a physician's attendance, and the prescription is carefully treasured; moi; frequently, however, the weary, the wakeful and heavy laden are allured by tempting advertisements of the miracu lous effects of government-stamped bot tles, to be obtained of all grocers and chemists, etc. The effect of the first dose is probably charming: another dose on the next o"cc:ision is equally satisfactory. No dangerous effects being indicated on the label, no particular danger is sus pected, ami by degrees the habitue re sorts to it uaul it becomes a nightly ne cessity. After a time the customary result is not experienced, and not unfre quently in the middle of the night, by familiarity become bold, the habitue, after hours of weary tossing, with trembling hand pours out another half-teaspoouful or a few more drops, as the label directs, and drinks it off. The desired effect and more is not produced; coma ensues for sixteen, twenty, or even more hours, greatly to the alarm of surrounding friends, and not unfrequently the conse quences are such as to necessitate the services of the Coroner. From the lnV,y. unit" 1 family circle of yesternight one is absent from the breakfast table the following morning. A sudden change comes over the wonted cheerful ness of the home. The bright morning sunlight is dimmed, the tread of every step is altered and every voice is sub dued, and auon the festive Chamber of the house is converted into a court of inquiry, with all its solemn and somber' paraphernalia, and after a short and ten der deliberation the final aud soothing verdict of "Misadventure by an overdose of chloral" is entered. MacMillati's Magazine. The Last or Ira Fletcher. Forty years ago, Ira Fletcher, a young man of twenty-one years, was disappointed in a love affair with a young girl residing between Skiwhegan, Me., and Norridge Neck. He was of a proud sensitive nature, and took his rejection to heart with a greater degree of regret than the average masculine is apt to feel. He packed his few effects, and. bidding good bye to his family, de parted out into the world, they knew not where. For a time he was remem bered and expected, but as the lapse of time brought no tidings, he was at length given up :is among the dead. Finally, a few days ago, a time worn wanderer appeared at the old homestead in Skow hegau. He told his story, and was re cognized as the long-lost Ira. A brother settled in New London N. II., was at once notified and preparation was made for the family reunion Meanwhile Ira Fletcher revisited the once familiar scenes of his boyhood only to find them changed. His favorite hill top in the vicinity was ob scured by a dense growth of timber and in the depressed state of his mind, excited by the olherohanges he witnessed, even this little circumstance gave him additional trouble. After the second day of his re turn he began to be uneasy, ami his de pression deepened. His friends eu deavored iu vain to cheer him. Sud denly, and without saying farewell, ho departed as mysteriously as he came. When the brother arrived at New Lon don, the object of his search was gone. It now transpires that in a tit of uncon trollable feeling he walked to Norridge wock and then t'-k i train for Water ville. The folio . .:ig night he appeared at East Greenville, R. I., and finding that life no longer possessed charm his philosophy was no longer proof against the chrushing weight of the events of the last few days, and he placed the pistol to his breast with the muttered farewell, " Here is the last of old Ira Fletcher," and entered that vague and misty un known " something after death," mei "ken not of." Providence Press. Destruction of Salraoa, The salmon fishery on the Pacific coast, which, at one time, was a source of large profit and a vocation which afforded employment to a large number of persons, is ttireatened with partial destruction. Tne salmon is oae of the noblest of fishes, and a country whose waters abound in them is highly favored; but the insatiable American greed which has destroyed millions of acres of noble timber and almost annihilated the once mighty herds of game on the Western plains, has subjected the Pacific coast fisheries to the same ruinous process. Ten years ago the pack of canned sal mon was 43,000 cases; last year it was 961,000 cases, worth $5,000,000. This year the eatch is very short, not more than one-half that of last year, and the canners are growing serious at the sud den decline iu a business which they have pursued with such destructive avid ity. In spite of the State laws passed to preserve the fish during the spawning season, the Sacramento and Columbia Rivers are dragged so incessantly night and day that the fish have the greatest difficulty ia reaching their spawning grounds. In places where once boat loads were the fruit of a day's work, ouly a dozen fish now reward the labor of a fisherman, and the exhaustion of the California and Oregon lisheries is seen to bean inevitable event if thorough and vigorous measures be not taken to avert it. The salmon have been driven north ward, and Frazer River in British Amer ica and the waters of Alaska now abound in the fish that once entered the Colum bia and Sacramento. A few years of assiduous and judicious cultivation would suffice to restore the fisheries to their former condition; but it is difficult to enforce this cultivation ngaimst the rapa cious demands of the tanneries. St. Louii Republican. mum Boy's Haad Nailed to a Board. A boy named Alexander Watson, aged fourteen, met with a painful accident last evening at Levigne's cabinet works, where he was employed among the machinery. He was engaged oa a ma chine worked by steam used for drivin a number of nails at a stroke, aud ha placed a cluster of the latter and the board into which they were to be driven in the requisite order. Incautiously plaeing his hand on the board to ascer tain if all was ready, the machine started before he expected, descending upon his hand and driving some dozen nails com pletely through it. The hand was fairly pinned to the board for a second, but as the machine can draw out the same lot of nails that it drives in with almost the same speed, it was only for a second. The lad was taken to Notre Dame Hos pital, where the wound was dressed. It is not certain whether or not amputation will have to be performed. Montreal Witness. m m In Arizona, the other day, laborer! excavating for the Atchison, Topeka & Santa Fe railroad, six miles south of Crittenden Station, discovered three pottery ollas filled with human bone. The ollas were imbedded three feet in olid lava rock, and appearances indi cate that the lava had flowed around them. In one of the ollas were found three Spanish coins bearing the date 1543. The pottery was painted in side like that found in all the Jd ruins of Arizona- Chicago Times. KENDALL'S KENDALL'S THE MOST SU(J USEFUL I-KMHUY EVKK DISCOV ERED; AS IT IS CERTAIN IN ITS EFFECTS. AND DOES NOT BLISTER. sW From COL. JL. T. FOSTER. nrizV' "r , Cr ?m"l ":"' vervlSnKon! 'Sft Se., I prize.! tery highlv. he had a large hone spavin on one joint and a ,maU one o itL other ivhi,.!, ,,!, nIla very lame; I had lu:n under the eh:,rVe of two veternarv dall's spa ln Cur. in I. Chicago Express, I determined once to -,"! t ou; I fv $? V er-t ,0 V.""" f' f it'-lhey tered eo bottle,. 1 took tuem'al and I thouht , "" 7iV 'h1,0 V10'1 Iuh lri?1' ! us,ed il a-cordin-: to directions and he fourth "dav t ecoltoei.-edtol.eianu.and the lumps hid disappeared. I used but one bottle il i- V r H" .ar'.' m fr' e from lumPs 3l,d s,nooU' nv hor.s,, in the State li.-Ni.,tirelyi.iiri-d. The euro was s0 remarkable that I let two of mv iicUboM hac the leuiaiinny iwo t.ottles who ar now usinjj it. " jn. ; r..- J., i-t "" - . - mix- uiiii. . J" in .ir lit it' Very respectfully. FEOM THE ONEONTA PRESS, N. Y. Farlx !a- summer i. r.-. B , ,- cot tract yi reli fr i.i t'ie , his Ji-ea i if , " "' f toforah..ir column advertisemen if" one t torth Uhmii nis , f Kendalls Spa in Cure. At the .amu tine we secured .n a ,,uanti'v of boo.. .. entitled Dr. Kendall's Treat!, on the Hor,e and -.which VM-ar- -ivi ,' to advance payin- subscribers to the 1'resi a, a premiMii Ab ut i:- tim tin ad merhoru. w h resides near ment am! r..,c.ii....l to te.st : .e efficacy h' "crinlllv- "- ! I1 ' ! a 'ttle of it on the hi rs- si id mc.. with thi it ........,! i ,i "7T. - -. u iim - , iii u iiiat KENDALL'S - itn r. . - kendall & Co.. Gents: ou B. .1. Kendall & Co. expresMnan. man. We sell KondallN Spavin may send us more advertising it. You recently con .1 tin.! no trace of the spavin or the pUee where it had been located Mr Schermerh. !. has s,iil-b secured a copy of Kendall', Treatise on the Horteaiul I.N Diseases w lH, he Pii;h very highly and would be loth to part with at anv price provided he could i.ot ob.am another copy. So much lor advertisinjr reliable nr tee' "" """" COXI.KY ,t KING. B.J. Kendall . I-Co., Gents: I am usimr your Spavin Cure for i lnm ,nivit, (bough t of Conley ,v Kin,-, Dru-ists. Columbiana. Ohio.) I tind it just X' U. h" ft cure a spavin: the lameness ha all l.-ft my mare, ami bv further iMe of the em. I look for the lump to leave. The one bottle was worth to me ten time, the cost Yours truly, FKA.VK BKLL. KENDALL'S SPA7IN CURE. -sJ! -gi 'i ' i Horse aim in Jj.sc.iscs 1 u.e it, it iisinir bone spavin. One bottle bunch. n t ... .. r. , , t i --'""'" v Y"' UL,,l!5- u:,e l removing enlargements. uuu ik ciiuan uuuu tor iiiauv oilier lours KENDALL'S Kendall's Spavin Cure is sure in its erteets, mild in its action as it do.s not blister, yet it Is penetrating and powerful to reach auv ilwp seated i.iin or t. re move any bony growth or any other enlargement if used for several das, ,m.i, ., spavins, splints, callous, sprains, swelling, anv Ian e- and ;!! enl.ir- em.Mit- of the joints or limbs, or rheumatism in man aud for anv purpo. f..(- whiclfi liniment is used for man or beast. It is now known to be the best linim ut fur in ,u ,er iise.i acting mild yet certain in its effects. It i used in lull strength with perfect saf-tv it all seasons of the year. Send address for Illustrated Circular, which we think gives positive proof, of u, virtues. No remedy h i met with audi uiHiiialni.-d success to our know led-'e for beast as well as man. Price SI per bottle, or six hottl,- for $."i. " or it will he 18 sent to Dr. SOLD BY WHEN YOU TRAVEL ALWAYS TAKE THE B. & M. R. R. Examine map and time tables carefully It will be seen that this line connects w ith C. B. & Q. K. K.; in Tact they are under one management, and taken together form what is called I Shortest and Quickest Line to 1C160. ST. IIS. FEOBIA. DES MOIXES, R01K ISLAND, And Especially to all Poiats IN IOWA, WISCONSIN, INDIANA, ILLINOIS, MICHIGAN, OHIO. PRINCIPAL ADVANTAfiKM AUK Through coaches from destination on C. If. & Q. It. It. No transfers; changes fiom C. H. t Q. It. It. to connect ing lines all made in Union Depots. THE0UGH TICKETS AT LOWEST RATES CAN HK HAD Upon application at any station on the .oad. Agents arc also prepared to check jaggage through; give all information as .o rates, routes, time connections, etc.. nd to secure sleeping car accomoda tions. This company is engaged on an exten tion which will open a NEW LINE TO DENVER And all points in Colorado. This ex tention will he completed and ready for Misiness in a 'few months, and the pub ic can then enjo all the advantages of i through line" between Denver and Chicago, Il under one management. I. S. Kmmtln. Gen'I T'k't A'gt, 43y Omaha, Nkb. LAND, FARMS, AND II SALE. AT TIIE Union Pacfic Land Office, On Long Time and low rate of Interest. All wishing to buy Hail Road LancU or Improved Farms will Und it to their advantage to call at the U. P. Land Office before lookin elsewhere as I make a specialty of buying and selling lands on commission; all persons wish ing to rell farms or unimproved land will lind it to their advantage to leave their lands with me for sale, as my fa cilities for affecting sales are unsur passed. am prepared to make final proof for all parties wishing to get a patent for their homesteads. X3JHenry Cordes, Clerk, writes and speaks German. SAMUEL C. SMITH, A.gt. U. P. Land Department, COLUMBUS. NEB 2I-y $66: i week in vour own town. $.i Outfit free. No risk. Every thing new. Capital not re quired. We will furnish you everything. Many are making fortunes Ladies make as much as men, and bo and girli make great pay. Reader, f you want a business at which you can make great pay all the time you work, write for particulars to II. Hallktt A Co., Portland, Maine. -Ijan-y BURLINGTON ROUTE atom SPAVIN CUEE! A Lj-0 EX' ELLEXT FOR HUMAN FLESH ! UEA D PROOF BELOW tint nv rp i nnff rta ut .;... v , V - -.,.... - uvi usriucui L.T.FOSTER. ... neon-!. New York, Jan. Gth. 183!. rjm r tisement first appeared in this paper Mr. I oiliers. had a si)aiiiil hnr,.. iu ru.i n... O. Scher-idverti.se- of the remedy, althouah his frieni."la,"hed Kendall's Spavin Cure and coininem-cl iHini Hr.i-ti..,w ...i h.. ;...-. i .. . .k. ".":.? r"" .' "- --- -"is weeK mat SPAVIN CURE. Columbiana, Ohio, Dec. 17th. 1 will find below .-. r......m,.. i..:.... !- Cure and tinil all who use it are pie: ,ed with matter, and a few nice cards with our name" our Rochester, hid., Nov. th. l.sso. 15. J. hernia I A Co.. Gents: I'lease semi lis : -iip,,, r advertising matter for Ken dall a bpa i Cure. It has a good sale here ,fc Mes the best of satisfaction. Of all we liive sold we have yet to learn the first unfavora ble report. Very respectfully, ".I. D.WVSOX ,V SON. Wintbrop, Iowa, Nov.'i.-.d. 1sn. B. .1. Kendall ,t Co., 'ents,: K elo-ed please IiimI S cents for vour rr.--.ti,.. .... ir... vnurSnavin nrH. ..."...... ..i .... i...J... ..' a i.Aiii.1 l uiii.i'iiinii vv nil iv-iinnwkii ....:... . ,. . ,". .... .-.. .-.. mi uiiir till entirely cured the Iameiie- ami removed fnst all t'ie Yours respectfully, LEKltOY M. UKAIIAM. . ... Milwaukee. Vis., . Ian. Slh. 1SSI - inquest opinion ot Kendall's pavin Cure. irntiiii4 n.im..,i i,.- oii, and particul.irh for very truly, SPAVIN C. F. BUADLKY. CURE. ALL DRUGGISTS have it or can get it for you, any address on receipt of price, bv the piopriclois, Dr. B. J. KENDALL & CO, Enosburr Falld, Vermont. AJLL DRUGGISTS. 1870. 1882. TIIK olun(bus fourml I conducted as a FAMILY NEWSPAPER, Devoted to the best mutual inter ests of its readers and its publish, ers. Published at Columbus, l'latte county, the centre of the agricul tural portion of Nebraska, it is read by hundreds of people east vhoar looking towards Nebraska as their fnture home. Its subscriber!, in Nebraska are the staunch, solid portion of the community, as is evidenced by the fact that the Journal has never contained a "dun" against them, and by the other fact that ADVERTISING In its columns always brings its reward. Business is business, and those who wish to reach the solid people of Central Nebraska will find the columns of the Journal a splendid medium. JOB WORK Of all kinds neatly and quickly done, at fair prices. This species of printing is nearly always want ed in a hurry, and, knowing this fact, we have so provided for it that we can furnish envelopes, let ter heads, bill heads, circulars, posters, etc., etc., on very short notice, and promptly on time as we promise. SUBSCRIPTION. 1 copy per annum $2 no " Six months 100 " Three months, 50 Single copy sent lo any addresB In the United States for 5 cts. M . X. TUBNER & CO., Columbus, Nebraska. EVERYBODY Can now anord A CHICAGO DAILY. TIIE CHICAGO HE1ULD, All the News every day on four large pages of seven columns each. The Hon. Frank AV. Palmer (Postmaster of Chi cago), Editor-in-Chief. A Uepublican Daily for $5 per Tear, Three mouths, $1..V). One trial 50 cents. month on CHICAGO "WEEKLY HERALD" Acknowledged by everybody read it to be the be-t eight-pas ever published, at the low price who has e papr of tl PER TEAR, Postage Free. Contains correct market report-, all the news, and general reading interest ing to the farmer and his family. Special terms to agents and clubs! Sample Copies free. Address, CHICAGO HERALD COMP'Y 120 and 122 Fiftk-ar., J0-tf CHICAGO,ILL A V M