The Cottage Grove sentinel., May 13, 1910, Image 8

RAM’S HORN BLAST* .
Warning Notes Calling the Wicked
to Repentance.
«
Mrs. Tellit—Yes» she Is a decided
blonde. Mrs. Knockit—Indeedl When
did she decide ?—Milwaukee News.
“Little boy, haven’t I seen you in
my Bible class?” “Not unless I walks
in me sleep, lady.”—New Orleans Pic­
ayune.
Ella—Bella married an octogenarian.
Stella—I don’t think that a girl ought
to change her religion for a man.—
Chicago Daily News.
“What selection is that the orchestra
has just finished?” “I don’t know.
Sounded to me like neuralgia express­
ed in music.”—Tit-Bits.
Daughter—Did you have to fish
much’, mamma, before you caught
papa? Mother—Fish, my dear, fish! I
was bear hunting.—M. A. P.
“How much does it cost to get mar­
ried?” asked the eager youth. “That
depends entirely on how long you live,”
replied the sad-loooking man.
“How is the water In the bath, Li­
sette?” “Cold, my lady. It turned
baby fairly blue.” “Then don’t put
Fido in for an hour of so .”—Pittsburg
Post.
He—Why are you so sad, darling?
She—I was just thinking, dearest, that
this is the last evening we can be to­
gether till to-morrow.—Chicago Daily
News.
Professor (examining medical stu­
dent)—If you were called out to a pa­
tient what is the first question you
would ask? Medical Student—Where
he lives.
“Splendid color, isn’t it?” asked the
fishmonger, cutting open a salmon.
“Yes,” replied the purchaser, “looks
as if it were blushing at the price you
ask for it.”
Wiggs—How do you know he’s a for­
eigner? He has no accent? Waggs—
No, but he knows so many ways in
which this country could be improved.
—Philadelphia Record.
“What did the poet mean when he
called his country ‘the land of the free
and the home of the brave’?” “He was
probably referring to bachelors and
married men,” said old Mr. Smithers,
sadly.
“What do you suppose, Algernon,”
the young thing asked, “is the reason
the ocean is salty?” “I am sure I don’t
know,” drawled Algy, “unless it is be­
cause there are so many codfish in it.”
—Success Magazine.
The Manager—I've got a new idea
for a melodrama that ought to make a
hit. The Writer-7-What is it? The
Manager—The idea is to introduce a
cyclone into the first act that will kill
all the actors.—Tit-Bits.
“I’ve got to go to Philadelphia,” said
the hurried traveler, who was fumbling
for his pocketbook. “Well,” answered
the New York ticket-seller, “are you
buying transportation or just telling
your troubles?”—Washington Star.
Bowers—I understand that the doc­
tors have just had a consultation on
Murphy. What conclusion did they
come to? Powers—’They decided that
the patient was not wealthy enough to
stand an operation.—Spokane Review.
Ebeneezer—Them skeeters makes me
think of them city visitors we had the
week before last. His Wife—How’s
that, Eb? Ebeneezer—They come pret­
ty near bein’ the worst singers and the
biggest eaters I ever see.—Illustrated
Bits..
Gladys—Oh, mamma! Here’s a note
from that long-haired pianist. He says
it will be impossible for him to play
at our reception to-night. Mamma—
What’s the trouble? Gladys—Some j
one stole his wig.—Chicago Daily
News.
The Kind Lady—You clear off or I’ll
set the dog at you. The Tramp—Ah,
’ow deceptive is ’uman natur’. Fer two j
nights I’ve slept in yer barn, eaten of
yer poultry an’ drunk of yer cider, and |
now yer treats me as an utter’ stran-1
ger.—The Sketch.
“They teil me,” said the innocent |
maid, “that your marriage was the re-1
suit of love at first sight. Is it true?” |
“It is,” answered the round-shouldered i
man, sadly. “Had I been gifted with
second sight I’d still be in the bachelor
class!”—Chicago Record-Herald.
“I hope you will be interested in:
yonder gentleman,” said the hostess. |
“I have assigned him to take you out
to dinner.” “I shall be,” responded the I
lady addressed. “That gentleman was i
formerly my husband, and he’s behind
with his alimony.”—Louisville Cour­
ier-Journal.
Magistrate—Officer, what is this man I
charged with Constable—He’s a cam-1
era fiend of the worst kind, yer wor-1
ship.
Magistrate—But this man
shouldn’t have been arrested simply be­
cause he has a mania for taking pic­
tures. Constable—It isn’t that, yer
worship; he takes the cameras.—Bos­
ton Globe.
“That is a fat, prosperous-looking en­
velope.. Does our salesman send in a
big bunch of orders?” “Not exactly.
That envelope contains a receipt ror
his last check,, his expense account for
this week, a request for a salary raise,
and a requisition for some more ex­
pense account blanks.”—Louisville
Courier-Journal.
Reverse Things.
No man prays
who prays with
his lips alone.
A shallow mind
soon works up a
frothy agitation.
It’s easy to let
men slide while
y o u’r e
chasing
money.
The world would
be full of fools if
folly had no bitter fruitage.
It is impossible to appreciate the
baldest facts without imagination.
It is a serious reflection on any faith
when it has no results in character.
Most homes ultimately have to
choose between chairs and children.
The religion that can be laid'in a
pigeonhole of the life belongs in its
cemetery.
No man is a good soldier of the
cross who thinks more of his feed than
of the fight.
When we .make mistakes we talk of
destiny, when we succeed we mention
only genius.
The soul can no more live on ab­
stractions than plants can live on a
theory in botany.
The man who carries his whisky in
a wheelbarrow always blames it for
leading him astray.
The higher criticism has never done
anything like the damage done by
neighborly, criticism.
There’s a difference between being
made by meeting dangers and running
out to embrace them.
The poorest way to make people ap­
preciate Heaven is to make earth bar­
ren of heavenly glory.
If we are sincere in longing for vir­
tuous people we will see that virtue
has some soil to grow in.
Many a man thinks the angels stag­
ger in amazement every time he gives
a pair of wornout shoes to a tramp.
Not long ago there was burned, op­
posite the temporary tomb of the late
Empress Dowager of China, a great
boat which, together with the car on
which it was placed, formed part of
the funeral procession of that deceased
woman. This imitation boat cost more
than thirty-five thousand dollars, and
the Chinese belief is that, as it burns,
it ascends to heaven in its own smoke,
and there becomes available for use.
The ceremony is an imposing one,
and is only performed at the death of
an emperor or empress. But other
funerals of the Yellow Nation are ac­
companied by picturesque and strange
details which are also costly.
Mrs. Archibald Little gives the fol­
lowing account of the funeral proces­
sion of Prince Yung-li in “Round
About My Peking Garden.” The prince
was the successor to Li-Hung Chang.
“After the soldiers and wardens in
picturesque costumes came falconers
carrying beautifùl hooded birds, and
a retainer leading the dead master’s
hound. Then followed the prince’s
titles on colored boards, borne by men
in palace livery, long green gowns
with disks of red or yellow.
“Next were many dogs, does and
stags made of green bushes, and ten
dogs constructed of gold and silver
paper, their heads wagging comically
as they were carried. Then a long
train of flags and umbrellas, and hun­
dreds of plants in full bloom, the best
made of paper, but planted in real
pots.
“All manner of insignia were woven
out of greenery ; lines of Mongol lamas
were splendid in brocades; great white-
banners waved, and professional
mourners smoked cigarettes.
“Yung-li’s own cart, sedan chair and
particular charger passed empty;
mock horses made of paper were cart­
ed on wheels, adorned with real manes
and tails. Then a whole lot of per­
sonal possessions, and then the cata­
falque itself, covered with red bro
*
cade.”
The Annual Bath.
The bath, it is said, is the measure
of civilization. He who bathes once
a day must be a better human being
than he who bathes once a week, or
once a month, or, like the Mexican
Indians, once a year. A writer in Out­
ing is the authority for the statement
that there is a belief among these peo­
ple that to bathe is to court sickness
and death.
There was a sick boy in a hut where
a friend of mine stopped one day, and
my friend suggested to the father that
a bath might cure him. The father
held up his hands in horror.
“A bath! That would kill him!”
he exclaimed. “I never bathed in my
life, and my children never bathed,
and never will.”
Down in the low countries they do
bathe once a year. At midnight on
June 29th—St. Peter’s day—the gbod
saint calms the ocean and makes thé
water harmless, and those within
reach of the sea who have sufficient
faith in the protecting powers of the
saint gather there on that day and
recklessly wash their bodies.
At points removed from the coast
June 24th is the annual bathing day.
This is St. John the Baptist’s day,/and
that good saint has a concession to
molify the rigors of the rivers for the
benefit of the would-be clean ones.
One kind
Wife—The landlord was here to-day
and I gave him the rent and showed with two
spoiled.
¿him the baby.
Hubby—Next time he comes around
It’s easy
suppose you show him the rent and
if he looks
give him the baby.
of curiosity is a small boy
grandmothers who isn’t
for a man to get married
good to a young widow.
LET’S GO FISHUr LIKE THE COUNTRY BOY.
Old Favorites
“Which Shall It Be?’»
“Which shall it be? Which shall it
be?”
I looked at John, John looked at me.
(Dear, patient John, who loves me yet
As well as though my locks were jet),
And when I found that I must speak,
My voice seemed strangely low and
weak:
“Tell me again what Robert said,”
And then I listening bent my head.
“This is his letter:—
“ T will give
A house and land while you shall live,
If, in return, from out your seven,
One child to me for aye is given.’
I looked at John’s old garments worn,
I thought of all that John had borne
Of poverty and work and care,
Which I, though willing, could no'
share,
Of. seven hungry mouths to feed,
Of seven little children’s need,
And then of this.
“Come, -John,” said I,
“We’ll choose among them as they u
Asleep;” so walking hand in hand,
Dear John and I surveyed our band.
First to the cradle lightly, stepped,
Where Lilian, the baby, slept;
Her damp curls lay like gold alight,
A glory ’gainst the pillow white:
Softly her father stooped to lay
His rough hand down in loving way.
When dream or whisper made her stir,
And huskily he said, “Not her.”
We stooped beside the trundle bed,
And one long ray of lamplight shed
Athyvart the boyish faces there,
In sleep so pitiful and fair,
I saw on Jamie’s rough red cheek
A tear un'dried; ere John could speak,
<fHe
*s
but a baby, too,” said I,
And kissed him as we hurried by.
Pale, patient Robby’s angel face
Still in his sleep bore suffering’s trace,
“No, for a thousand crowns not him/’
He whispered, while our eyes were dim.
Poor Dick, sad- Dick! our wayward son,
Turbulent, reckless, idle one—
Could he be spared? Nay, He who
gave
Bids us befriend him to the grave;
Only a mother’s heart can be
Patient enough for such as he;
“And so,” said John, “I would not dare
To send him from her bedside prayer.”
Then stole we softly up above
And knelt by Mary, child of love;
“Perhaps for her ’twould better be,”
I said to John. Quite silently
He lifted up a curl that lay
Across her cheek in willful way,
And shook his head. ' “Nay, love, not
thee;”
The while my heart beat audibly.
Only one more, our eldest lad,
Trusty and truthful, good and glad—
So like his father; “No, John, no:
I cannot, will not let him go!”
And so we wrote, in courteous way,
We could not give one child away;
And afterward toil lighter seemed,
Thinking of that of which we dreamed;
Happy, in truth, that not one face
We missed from its accustomed place;
Thankful to work for all the seven,
Trusting then t,o One in heaven.
WOMAN’S STRANGE BEQUEST.
Au All-White Funeral and Chopin’s
March Fifty-Seven Tinies.
The Vicomtesse de Vaugelet, who
has just died at the age of 77, left the
bulk of her fortune,
*
estimated at
$100,000, various minor legacies be­
ing deducted, to the town of Riom on
certain curious conditions, which were
all, or nearly all, complied with, a
Cincinnati Enquirer’s Paris letter
says. She insisted on an entirely
white funeral, with white trappings,
white flowers and white horses.
No • white horses were discoverable
in the country, but in other respects
her wishes were obeyed. The late
vicomtesse seems to have been par­
ticularly musical, for she bequeathed
$200 to the local band on condition it
played Chopin’s “Funeral March” con­
tinually during the obsequies all the
way from the house to the church and
from the church to the graveyard, a
distance of sixteen miles.
The result was that the band play­
ed Chopin’s “Funeral March” fifty­
seven times and then retired almost
inanimate to a village inn, where a
portion of the $200 was consumed in
drinks.
Mme. de Vaugelet also left $6,000 to
the French academy, to be bestowed
“upon a child aged between 5 and 15
years having shown peculiar distinc­
tion in music.”
There seems to be no time limit for
the discovery of the .requisite prodigy
by the academy.. Finally the residue
of the vicomtesse’s fortune goes to the
town, of Riom, owing, it seems, to the
stubborn disinterestedness of M. Cle-
mentel, former minister of the colo­
nies, whom for years she implored to
be her heir. As he persistently re­
fused, she appointed him only her ex­
ecutor and the town of Riom her re«
siduary legatee.
Cuttin’ a limb for a fishn’ pole,
In the cool shade near a sunfish hole;
Lolling around on a grassy knoll,
Pullin’ out “punkin seeds.”
—Cincinnati Post.
TO DAFFODILS.
Fair daffodils, we weep to see
You haste away so soon;
As yet thé early-rising sun
Has not attained his noon,
étày, stay,
Until the hasting day
Has run
But to the even-song;
And haying prayed together, we
Will go with you along.
We have short time to stay, as you,
We have as short a spring;
As quick a growth to meet decay,
As you or anything.
We die,
As your hours do, and dry
Away,
Like to the summer rain;
Or as the pearls of morning dew,
Ne’er to be found again.
—Robert Herrick.
r
For a Woman's Sake
J
Kathleen wended iier way to Lady
Gorton’s boudoir, and without waiting
to knock pushed open thè door and
sank down on the nearest chair.
“My dearest child, what is the mat­
ter?” exclaimed her ladyship. “Have
you had bad news?”
“Enid, I must go home now, this af­
ternoon.”
“But why, Kathleen? You must first
tell me what has happened, then I will
do my best to help you:”
“Deaf,” whispered the girl, kneeling
at her friend’s feet, “Lord Clifford has
proposed to me, and I1—I—love him.”
“But why say no when you admit
you love him?”
“Have you forgotten why I must be
different from other girls? Why, it
would not be quite right for me to
share an honorable man’s name?”
“Yes, dear, I had.”
“I’d almost forgotten it, too,” said
the girl, sadly, “while I’ve been here
with you, Enid. Oh, Enid! you can
never be grateful enough that no ab-
stacle stood in the way of your marry­
ing Dick.”
“Why not leave the old life behind
and make your home with Dick and
myself? You know we shall be de­
lighted to have you.”
“I know, and I thank you a ‘thou­
sand times, but he will be free in about
three months’ time, and I must keep a
home for him to come to. You see,
Enid, he is my father after all. I love
him still, and his disgrace is mine.
How could I, the daughter of a con­
vict, expect happiness?”
*
*
*
*
♦
All in a Flutter.
For the first time in her life she
Three months had slipped by and the
was about to make a railway journey. day had arrived on which Kathleen’s
When she arrived at the station she father would be free. By a curious co­
didn’t know what to do..
incidence a letter had arrived for him
She hailed a porter.
a few days previously marked private,
“Young man,” she said, “can you tell the first that had come since his con­
me where I get my ticket?”
viction. How many times during those
“Right there at the bookin’ orfis!” days did Kathleen wonder what that
answered the porter, jerking his envelope contained? Was it some ex­
thumb backward; “throu’ the pigeon planation of the mystery she felt sure
’ole.” ’
surrounded her father?
She regarded the hole, and then she
Kathleen hardly recognized her fath­
regarded the porter. Her face was er in the prematurely old man she met
crimson with insult.
at the prison gates. It was not until
“You be off, you idiot!” she scream­ they arrived home and he felt her
ed. “How on earth do you think I’m arms around him that his composure
going to get thro’ there? I ain’t no gave way, and burying his face in his
blessed pigeon! ”—Answers.
.hands his frame shook with heart­
We have become used to having rending sobs.
“Father, father,” pleaded the girl,
people refuse to laugh at our jokes.
softly, “try to realize, dear, that you’ *e
What has become of the old-fash­ xfree; that you’re to stay with me al­
ioned Salvation Army?
ways; that I’m to look after you. Speak
Soakin’ his feet in the cooling stream.
Stringin’ the big rock bass and bream;
Just the right spot! Oh! to lie and dream
And fish like the country boy.
to me, dear, just one little word of
love after all the weary months.”
“Kathleen, my darling,” said ^the
man, brokenly, “this is the hardest
punishment I’ve had to bear. God
knows I’ve endured hell the last three
years, but your love, my child, over­
comes me.”
“Surely you did not think I -should
turn from you. I only know you are
the victim of fate.”
“I did you the greatest wrong of all.
child, in pleading guilty to the charge.
I ought to have thought then what it
would mean to you; but I put some
one before you, and that thought has
been the hardest part to bear.”-
“Father, father, do you really mean
that you’re innocent? Then why—why
did you not say so?”
“Because—oh, I cannot tell you.”
“Perhaps this letter will explain
things,” said the girl, putting it into
his hand.
With feverish haste he tore open the
envelope and without a word read the
contents. When he had finished he
put the letter into Kathleen’s hand and
asked her to read it, too. The only
fact she seemed to grasp was that her
father had borne the punishment for
some one else’s crime. But why?
Handing the letter back she said, “I
don’t think I quite understand, dear.
Will you not explain?”
“Kathie, come and sit where I can
see you. When I reached the age of
22 I fell deeply, passionately, in love
with a girl whom I hoped returned my
affection. But when I put my fate to
the test she told me in the gentlest pos-
“ i ’ m to
look after you .”
sible way that it was my friend, Basil
Renshaw, she loved, and not myself.
Then I met your mother. She was a
woman much older than myself. After
her death I saw a great deal of Basil
and his wife, for, as you know, wo
were both in the same regiment. In­
stead of my love for Edith being dead,
as I fondly imagined, the sight of her
again fanned it into life, and I was
only happy on the days I saw •her.-
“About three years ago there was a
fund raised in the regiment -for the
widows of soldiers who had fallen in a
frontier skirmish, of which Basil was
made trustee. One day he came burst­
ing into my room with wild-looking
eyes and face from which all color had
fled. ‘Why, old chap, what’s up?’ 1
asked. ‘Anything wrong with Edith?’
‘Guy, for God’s sake, help me. They’re
coming to look at the accounts of the
fund to-morrow. And I’m £500 odd
short.’ ‘You’re what?’ I gasped. ‘What
the devil d’you mean?’ ‘What I say,’
he muttered, hoarsely. ‘I’ve been los­
ing heavily at bridge lately and had
'cursed luck on the turf, so I borrowed
this trust money to’put me straight,
hoping my luck would turn and that I
could • refund it before it was found
out. Can’t you think of something?’
‘Basil,’ I replied, looking him full in
the face, ‘do you know that years ago
I loved Edith, in fact, I love her still?
Well, for her sake I’m willing to plead?
guilty to this charge and stand tha
punishment in your stead.’
“ ‘Guy,’ he answered, ‘it’s impossible.
I could not allow it.’ ‘Yes, you could/
I told 'him, ‘and you will. My only-
stipulation is, don’t ever let Edith,
know you took the money. She loves
you, let her keep her love.’ ”
*****
They were aroused from their rev
erie by a cheery voice at the door ex­
claiming, “May we come in?” Anl
Lady Gorton, followed by Lord Clif­
ford, came into the room.
After embracing her friend she-
crossed over to Mr. Stuart and holding-
out her hand said, “I felt I must be
the first to welcome you home. T
couldn’t let Kathie have you all hr
herself. And I’ve brought some one
with me, too, some one whom you’ve-
got to get very fond of, for I’m afraid
he has come to steal a certain little
girl from you.”
Guy Stuart looked from one to the
other as his friends rallied round him,
and in a voice that shook with emotion,
said, “Will you listen while I read this
letter?” And as the dying man’s con­
fession was read the three listeners in.
that tiny room gazed with admiratijn.
on the man who had sacrificed so much
for -love’s sake.—London Tatler.
An Indestructible Snake.
Snakes on the pampas of Soutn.
America have many enemies. Burrow­
ing owls feed on them, and so do her­
ons and.stofks, which kill them with a.
blow of their javelin beaks. The ty­
rant bird picks up the young snak&
by the tail, and flying to a branch or'
stone, uses the reptile as a flail until,
its life is battered out. The larger
lizard of the pampas, the iguana, is a
famous snake killer. It smites the
snake to death with its powerful tail-.
Mr. Hudson, in his “Naturalist in La
Plata,” tells this sotry:
One day a friend of mine was riding
out, looking after his cattle. One end
of his lasso was attached to his saddle-
and the remainder of the forty-foot
line was allowed to trail on the-
ground.
The rider noticed a large iguana ly­
ing apparently asleep, and although
he rode within a few inches, it did
not stir. But no sooner had the rider-
passed than the trailing lasso attracted
the lizard’s attention.
It dashed after the slowly moving
rope and dealt it a succéssion of vio­
lent blows with its tail.
When the whole of the lasso, severa?,
yards of which had been pounded in
vain, had passed by, the iguana, with
uplifted head, gazed after it with as­
tonishment. Never had such a wonder­
ful snake crossed its path before.
Too Much to Believe,
.
“I should like to be excused, youi
lordship,” said the man who had been
summoned on a jury in England, says»
Cassel’s Journal.
‘ “What for?”
“I owe a man £5, ?and I want to hunt
him up and pay it.”
“Do you mean to tell this court you.
would hunt up a man to pay a bill in­
stead of Waiting for him to hunt you
up?”
“Yes, your lordship.”
“You are excused. I don’t want any
one on the jury who will lie like that,”
It usually takes a stronger hint to-
induce a visitor to go than was re­
quired to get him to eome.
Always remember that you’ll never
make a man love you by playing a.
practical joke on him