Image provided by: University of Oregon Libraries; Eugene, OR
About The Albany register. (Albany, Or.) 1868-18?? | View Entire Issue (Feb. 21, 1874)
LP Firitf VOLUMK VI. ALBANY, ORKGOX. FEBRUARY 21, 1874. NO. 24. IT KEVKR PAYS. It never pays to fret ami growl When fortune teems our foe ; The better bred will pnnh ahead And strike the braver blow. For hick is work. And those who shirk Should not lament their doom. But yield the pay And clear the, way, , That better men have room. It never pays to foster pride And squander pride in show ; For friends thus won are sure to run In times of want or woe. x The noblest worth Of alfthe earth Are gems of heart and brain. And conscience clear, A household dear. And hands without a stain. it never pays to hare a foe, Or cater to a friend ; To fawn and whine, much less repine. To borrow or to lend. The faults of men Are fewer when Each rows his own canoe ; For feuds and debts And pampered pets. Unbounded mischief brew. It hever pays to wreck the health In drudging after gain. And he is sold who thinks that gold Is cheaply bought with pain. A humble lot, A cozy cot. Have tempted even kings, For stations high That wealth will buy Vot oft contentment brings. 8. Hie Poiieher'H Story Ttsi worse than gambling, sir, ;uid it beats drinking holler. Skit ies is enticing, but poaching is the aptain. Drop it, sir? I could nipo off my score at the Crowing 'ock easier than I could drop my love of sport ; and when I says that says a good deal, for the landlord .'wears I shall die in his debt ; and I believe him. If a fellow takes to poaching, he's done for as sate as houses. I've been a private sport now tor twenty year come Martin, mas, and I'm a bigger old sawney than ever in the way of liking it. 0, sartinly. some gives it up but not without their eyes fail's 'em. There's old Jacob Greene, the blacksmith ; he's retired a good bit now. I le do say it was because tlie Methody man made him oncasy in his mind ; and he's a deacon now, and has had "a call" to preach. lUit tlie truth is, the blinds have got down, sir. He can't see it; and a good poacher must be able to hit. a black cat at forty yards on a dusky night. Old Jacob Greene, sir, is like Solomon, sir, when he got so old he couldn't enjoy himself tlie mme as he used, said it was all vanity and vexation of spirit. No doubt it is vexing when a fellow tries to carry on tfie old games and can't. . How did 1 begin the game? Welt, it wur like this: At ejgh-' teen I wur in service with old Mas ter Thuristoue at the Dove Holes, j and Will Oakley wur my follow-, servant As line strapping fellow ! wur Will. Gone to America now.. He saved his money, sir, and 1 hwi ids mine; that's the difference. ' Howether, as we rat on the sholtry tde of a hedge gating our bread tt)d cheese, we need tlie plump plwnsant strut so peert out of the ood, that skirted the .field we were barrow in; and bo tame, like our Gpbii Witt looked 'em ad miring-like for a minute, and says he: "Them birds. Rooks" that's my name, sir, you see "them birds is like many silly men ; they won't take a good thing when they has a chance. There's pans full of tom my for 'em in the wood, and yet they come dibbling in our field. I wonder," says he, considering a minute or two, "I wonder how they would taste baked?" I hadn't no notion and I said so. Will sat twirling his billy-cock sloivly, and looking at the pheas ants. "I was a-wondering wiry you and me, Hooks, should have to sit in the ditch eating barley-bread and skim-dick, wh 1st Squire Dormer eats pheasants and lives like a fighting-cock? Wild animals," says Will, a-pointing across the field to where the pheasants wur feeding, and a stretching out his fingers like the Methody man when he preaches on the horse-block at the Crowii.g Cock "wild animals was sent for the service of men ; they was give to everybody, not to the Squire. There's the book of Genesis on that, and parson can't deny it, though he'd like to." "There's another thing, too. If you and me, Rooks, was to sneak round the corner of that wood, and floor a couple of them birds with a big hedge-stake, or if we was to to shoot 'em at nights, the Justice would lecture us like anythink, and swear we was rogues and vaga bones. But it Squire and his lot wur to make a big bag. them very Justices would say, 'What noble sportcmen ; what a love of sport !' Laws is rum things," says be, a acratching of his head, "and Jus tices ain't no better than they should bo." "Well, sir, I took up oncommon raw agin tlie Squire, and Will soon persuaded me to pitch into the pheasants. He was mixed up with a regular gang of poachers at Foose town, and easily got a gun, which we used to hide in an old drain. The first night we went out, when we left our room over the stables it was terrible dark,, even for country fellows that get used to it , Will led me over the fields to a wood right in front of Squire's house. They called it the Belt, sir, because it ran all round the home park. A nice wood it wur. I had nested in it when a lad. .There wur dozens of squirrels in it. On common cute animals they be, sir brushes away the dry beech-leaves with their tails., and then turns Vm round to pick up the nuts. Being so near Squire's house I felt afraid, and said so, "Never you mind," says Will ; "the keepers is away up to the Asps spinneys, and we're as safe here as if we was in heaven, because they don't expect us. 1 1 a' n't yon heard parson say how we looks too high for things close by?" Will sniggered quietly to himself at the thought of the parson. I felt very huuked, for the big hound at the stables yelped as if he knew we was there. ' The river washed over the ford with dismal sound. The toads on thelake croaked aw ful The night wind sounded sad amongst the trees The great bell at the hall rung for prayers. The church clock struck eleven. Grad ually the lights went out one by one. I was sorry to see the last one go. "Look Jip there, Rooks," said Will, leading me underneath some trees and pointing upwards. I looked up as hard as I could. But lor bless ypu, it was too dark to seeevena wbitesmock-frock. "Oh, it doesn't matter," says Will. "Yon keep quiet, hold the bag, and do as I tell you, and no mistake." Will put tie gun to his shoulder and tired twice. In a minute the quiet wood was in an uproar. Thou sands of wings flapped. Cock pheasants screeched with fright, and the hens cried chorus. Blackbirds and thrushes wanted to know what was up ; and all the tiny birds twit tered like road. I was scared al most to death by a pheasant whir ring close to my ear-hole, and was just bolting, only Will collared me. "Where are you off to, yon too! f he growled, a-laughing to himself like. ''Give us the bag." I picked it up, for I had dropped it in my c;,.t,, w:it ..!,.. ... u:i ;.. uigu. y iii louver, iwv virus in it, and strides away to the edge of the wood It wur a sight, sir, to see him slash off across tiie fields and clear the hedges. I followed. Right away from the hall we went, to wards a wood two miles off. As we run we heard gates slam, and the big hound had stopped barking; so we knew that the Squire's folks was out, and that the dog wur loos ed. When we got to the other wood, we wur dead-beat. I wanted to go hume, but Will wur in liih sniri's. and swore the game wur only begun, and that he would have those birds. Tlie devil wur in him, sur, and it would ha' been a bad night for Tom Jarvis, the keeper, it he had come across us then. Web, sir, after we bad rested and got wind, Will did the same trick again, and brought down two more pheas ants. Then we run for home like hares, and got in safe without see ing anybody. We played this game pretty of ten, and the village got into a reg ular hubbub. The Squire swo.ro there wur some of the cunningest thieves about the estate tlvere ever was, and thought we was a gang that plotted to do business on differ ent parts of the preserves. The first night we went out, old Jacob, the smith, Wur suspected ; but the old man knew we were out, and had been cute enough to go on that very night to a prayer-meeting at a chapel tour miles away, along with one of the Squire's woodmen, who had also taken a pious turn, and they two easily cleared one anoth er. But we got nabbed at last, sir, for one night, when we oome home with the game, whe did we fiud waiting tor us in the farmyard ljut Tom Jarvis, the keeper, and his man. They suspected us, you know, and as they couldn't catch us, they played us that deep trick- They threatened to pall us tip the uest day. And after they went, Will Oakley got his little bit of money together and ran off to the coal pits. I had no money, and couldn't go How did I get out of it, sir? Well, master persuaded me to go to the hall to ax Squire's pardon. Master went and told how Will was a bad lad and led me on; and that 1 wouldn't do it again. The Squire stormed and swore shock ing ; but he agreed to make it up When it was all over, says I to him, "We ought to have a drop of drink about this job, sir, seeing as how it's all settled now; and a mouthful of bread and cheese wouldn't be amiss either.", "Why, you impudent scamp,'' says he, "if you ain't off sharp I'll have you put in the stocks yet." He went away and told his lady, for I heard her adaughing hearty, and she come out into the passage, and hollered out to the footman; "Slater," says she, "give that man as much as he can eat and drink." And he did,, too ; and I didn't make a bad day, for a snare that I set a going home agin had a hare in that night. It's easy enough to dispose of the , , . i game, sir, provided you deals with I a respectable man. The little hucksters will make their own terms as to price, or else they'll split on you ; so its better to go to an hon est man at once. My man, Mr. Crouch, keeps the biggest shop in Foosetown, and deals with all the gentry. A very tidy man, sir, but a bit addled about old pictors and crockery-ware. Says he to me one day a-sitting iu his parlor, a-drink-ing a drop of sherry wine, "Mr. Rooks," says he, "that picter over by there," pointing to an old spiudge so dark that I could hardly see it, "that," says he, "is ;t Tishiun. My picter restorer won't tell me wheth er it's-a copy or a horiginal ; he won't commit hisseT. It's the Trib ute Money is the picter. Observe the he.vpression of that Pharisee's hyebrow, Mr. Rooks." "And so that's a Tishiun, Is it?" says I. "It is," says he." "It's tlie picter that brought Tishiun bout, and if its only a horiginal it's worth its thousands, i But Crouch is a good pay and an honest man. Oh, yes, sir. I've been "nabbed four times We helps one another to pay the fine.; but the last time I had three months on the wheel. No joke that, sir. It makes your arms and your thighs feel like babies'. I wam't good for nothing for a month after, and had to goon the, parish. Everything else in jail, sir, is very comfortable ; but the wheel is the very devil. I'll sar tinly thrash Tom Jarvis for that, some night. Yes, sir, I'm married ..but my wife has got rumatiz by field work, and has half a crown a week from the parish! I'm a laborer, and earn ten shillings a week, besides what lean make by poaching, perhaps fbnr or live shilling more i'vetwo boys, ten and twelve. School, sir? Oh, no, they're worth five shillings a week to me. Better drop poaching? No, ir I'm Mowed if I do The Fall of tlie Leaf. Many persons think that whei the leaves turn red and yellow in. the fall it is because tjiey have been killed by the frost. But a little observation will show 'that such is not the case, and that the autumns when the leaves are most beautiful are those in which the frost is the latest. This, has been notably the case this year. Up to this time the 9th of October, we have not had the slightest frost. All the most tender budding plants are still flourishing in the open air, yet the maples with crowns of gold, crimson and green, are beautiful, and even the horse-chestnuts, whose leaves are generally killed by the early frosts, are trying to vie with their more brilliant neighbors. A severe frost kills the leaves at once, and they soon frll, brown and withered. To be brilliant they must ripen naturally, and our hot September and October midday suns have probably much to do with it ; as in England, where the falls are apt to b?dampand cloudy, the leaves are not so bright, and American artists, who strive to paint our maples and dogwoods as they see them, are unjustly accused of over-coloring. The leaves fall because they are ripe and have performed the service that was allotted them. The leaf is the laboratory of the plant, and in it are performed most of the operations essential to its growth. It takes the crude materials gath ered by the roots, refines them, re- Meeting all that is not essential to the plant, and out of the remainder constructs the highly complex bodies that .are found in other parts of the plant. These rejected parts consist mainly of earthy matter that was in solution in the water taken up by the roots, and it is deposited in the cells, of the leaf. This is. shown by the fact that the leaf con tains far more ash than any other part of the plant. In some plants the ash of the leaf amoirts to over 20' per cent., while that of tlie wood rarely exceeds two or three. When the cells become completely clogged up with' this matter, the leaf can no longer perform its func tions, and so ripens and falls off, Provision has already been made . for this separation. If the. foot, stalks of most leaves be examined, it will be found that a kind of joint exists near the body of the plant, even when the leaf is quite young ; as it grows older this joint becomes more marked, aiid finally when it is rie a gentle breeze will shake it off, and no wound is left, nothing but the scar: the wound has healed even before it was made. Tlte isame is also true of fruits,wbich by botanists are regarded as nothing but developed leaves ; a joint may generally be found in the stem, at which it separates readily. This is very marked in the grape; it js situated at a little swelling that, is to be ibnnd on the stem. A slight bend will separate the stem at tbwr point, while it takes a strong pull to sever U'ibove or , jbelow. Even on $he evergreen trees; whiph ap parently 'never 'sped theTr' leayK the leaf exists itthe'riast' but jtfo or three years, when tney are "re placed by new one, the old falling away as they bWme, Unfit ' fix active duty ; but the leave i tiA shed' mcWiy'wt ' tk spring, we do not misstbem.-fle ton Joumri tf C'ABio