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