The Corvallis gazette., July 02, 1880, Page 4, Image 4

WEEKLY CORYAILIS GAZETTE
CORVALLIS, - -
JULY 2, 1880
THE MINISTER'S OLD COAT.
"iliniaters' sons are very apt to turn
out badly," said I to a gentleman who
sat next to me in the car. We had met
in the train, bound for Chicago, and had
struck up an acquaintance. He stopped
me -w ith his hand on my arm and with
an earnest look which 1 shall never for
get. I paused at once in what I was say
ing, and it seemed for a moment almost
as if the rushing train had stopped to
listen too.
"Let me tell you a story," he said. "I
know it is a common belief that min
isters' sons are wild, but that is because
people talk about the bad ones, while
those who turn out well are taken as a
matter of course. I gathered statistics
about them, once, and found that out of
a thousand sons of ministers, there were
very few who did not grow up useful and
industrious men."
"But what is your story ?" I asked,
settling back in my seat.
"Well," said he, "it begins with a
class supper in Boston, a dozen years
ago. A number of old college friends
had gathered in the evening for their
annual reunion. Among them was the
rich merchant, J. E. Williston perhaps
you have heard of him and a poor pas
tor of a country church in Elm bank vil
lage, out in Western Massachusetts,
whose name was Blake. A good many
of the class had died, and the dozen or
so elderly men who were left felt more
tender than ever toward each other as
they thought of the bright days at Har
vard, and how soon no one would be left
on earth who shared in that happy time.
The dishes came and went, the light
glowed brilliantly, and at last the friends
grew quite gay. But the tender feeling
I have spoken 8f would come upper
most, now and then ; and in one of these
musing moments Williston's eye was at
tracted by something glistening about
the coat which his friend Blake, who sat
next to him, had on. He looked closer,
and saw that the black cloth of which
the coat was made had been worn so thin
and smooth that it was very shiny.
" 'Well. Blake,' said he, suddenly,
taking hold of his friend's arm cordially
i which he somehow hadn't thought of
oing before) , 'how has the world gone
with you. lately.'
" Blake had a naturally sad and
thoughtful face; but he looked around
auickly. with a warm smile.
" 'No need to ask,' he said, laughingly.
You can read the whole story on my
back. This old coat is a sort of balance
sheet, which shows my financial condi
tion to a T.
"Then he spoke more seriously, add
ing: 'It is a pretty hard life, Williston,
that of a country parson. I don't com
plain of my lot, though sometimes I'm
distressed for my family. The fact is,
this coat I've got on is hardly fit for a
man of my profession to appear in; but
I'm going to send my boy 8am to Har
vard this year, and must pinch here and
there to do it. I really ought to be
thankful, though, that I can get such
advantages for him by a few little sacri
fices of personal appearance and con
venience.' " 'Don't you give a thought of your
coat, old fellow,' returned Williston.
'Nobody who knows you will ever
imagine that the heart inside of it is
threadbare, however the garment may
look.'
"Blake was pleased with this kindly
expression; and both men, after that ex
change of confidence, felt happier. But,
among the various incidents of the even
ing, this one almost passed oat of the
minister's mind by the next day, when
he started for Elmbank. Speedy as his
return was, however, something meant
for him had got to his destination before
him. It was a letter. Taking it up he
broke open the envelope, and found in
side a few words from Williston, with a
check for $500 to defray the first year's
college expenses of his old classmate's
son.
"You are a stranger to me, sir," said
my traveling companion, at this point,
"but I think you will appreciate the
feeling with which poor Mr. Blake stood
in his bare and dingy study in the old
farm house parsonage, holding that let
ter in his hand, and lifting his faithful
eyes in thankfulness to God."
"Yes," I replied. "Williston did just
the right thing, too. And how was it ?
Did the son show that he deserved the
help ?"
My acquaintance looked away from me
at the rich country through which we
were passing. Then he said: "Sam
Blake was a good-natured, obedient fel
low enough, and was greatly pleased to
have the expense of his first college year
taken off his father's shoulders; but his
sense of duty didn't go very far. Rev.
Mr. Blake bought a new coat, and Sam
entered Harvard that fall; and there
matters stopped for awhile.
"A freshman has a great deal to learn,
as you know ; but I think the chief thing
Sam learned that term was the great
difference there is between Harvard and
a little village like Elmbank, and the
great difficulty of working and playing
at the same time. Here he had society
meetings to attend, and rooms of his
own, with a chum, where a good deal of
smoking was done by himself and his
friends. And then there was base ball,
into which it appeared indispensable for
the honor of the class that he should enter
actively, on account of his strong le;-s,
wonderful wind and ground batting. He
could not refuse to go to the theater oc
casionally, with his richer companions.
Sam took a natural interest in the society
of young ladies, too, and had to give up
some time to its cultivation. He also
thought a moderate amount of practice in
the gymnasium was desirable, to prevent
his health breaking down under the con
finement of study. So, on the whole,
the actual work that he did in the col
lege was not very extensive. Thio didn't
seem to have any bad effect till well
along in the winter, when the habit of
shirking work had grown so strong, with
out his noticing it, that he fell easily
into reading novels when he ought to
have been in the recitation-room.
Gymnasium, theater, billiards, smoking
and I am afraid I must say a little
drinking frittered away his time.
"One horrible snowy, sleety morning
when he had got up too late for prayers.
the postman brought him a note from,
the faculty an 'admonition.' He
dropped the pipe he was just lighting
and bolted off to recitation. But he
'deaded' immediately and that discour
aged him. He soon began to make light
of the warning, and did himself no credit
in his studies. Though he managed to
squeeze through the examination at the
end of the freshman year, he came out
far down toward the foot of his class. He
wasn't quite contented with himself, and
thought he'd try to do better the next
year. But during the journey home he
recovered his usual spirits.
"When he walked up to the village
toward the parsonage farm, he was think
ing that since he was a sophomore now
he would buy the knottiest, biggest
headed cane in Cambridge when he
should go back there. And what was
the first thing that met him at home? It
was his father out in the field digging
for new potatoes, his coat off and his
spectacled face perspiring! The sight
struck shame into the boy. He vaulted
the fence, and running up with hardly a
pause of greeting, cried :
" 'O, father, let me do that! I don't
like to see you at such work.'
Mr. Blake stopped and looked
earnestly and rather sadly at him.
" 'WelL Sam, I think that's about as
good a How-do-you-do? as you could
have offered me. There's something right
about you after all.'
It hadn't occurred to Sam that there
was any doubt on that point before. He
blushed as he asked:
"Where's the hired man?"
" 'I've discharged him. I can't afford
one at present, my son,' was the an
swer. "Sam was rather puzzled and began to
reflect.
"They went into the house, and there,
when the minister re-appeared after
making his toilet, his son noticed that
he wore the old shabby, shiny coat. At
this he was more than ever astonished.
The supper, also, notwithstanding that it
was the first night of the prodigal's re
turn, was very meager. Not a single ex
tra luxury was on the table, and Sam ob
served that bis mother took no sugar nor
butter. His own appetite began to fail
at seeing this, and his perception was
sharpened accordingly. He was now
aware that his father looked very thin, as
well as sad. Suddenly he laid down his
knife, and exclaimed to his sister Katv:
" 'Sis, what does all this mean? this
going without the hired man, and starr
ing yourselves?'
"Hissister looked at him, then glanced
at Mr. Blake and her mother, and made
no answer.
" 'I thought," said Sam, petulantly
"that Williston's money was going to
make it easy for you, father; and here
the pinching is going on hve times worse
than ever.
" 'I don't own my friend Williston's
money, said the minister, quietly.
" 'Of course not, but the five hundred
dor
"Sam stopped abruptly on an entreat
mg gesture trom his sister.
"The subject was not resumed. But
before he went to bed Sam obtained an
interview with his sister alone. He felt,
secretly, that he was responsible for the
depression and trouble which seemed
to fill the household. - but that
only made him speak more impetuously
'Now, sis,' he began, 'can I get two
words of sense out of you?'
" 'Not until you ask politely,' she re
plied.
" 'Well, then, please tell me what the
mvstery is.
" 'It oughtn't to be a mystery to you,
Ham, that you haven t done well at col
lege. Papa is-terribly disappointed.'
" 'I don't see why he should commit
suicide if he is,-' "Sam retorted. 'I
haven't cost him much this year.'
" 'Oh, yes, you have. Do you know
he actually sold his new coat?
" 'Why?' Sam frowned.
" 'Because he's been trying every way
to save money since he began to get
reports of how you were wasting your
time.
" 'What for?' asked Sam, though he
began to suspect.
" 'Well, he how should I know?
Don't you see? He's ashamed to have
that money from his old classmate, and
he s nearly saved enough, and he s go
ing to pay it all back. There, I was to
keep it secret, and now J. ve told you!
and his sister burst into tears. 'You've
nearly broken his heart, Sam poor
papa!
"The next day Mr. Blake s son went
off directly after breakfast and was not
seen again until afternoon. Coming
back, he overtook his father coming from
the postomce.
" I know all about it! he exclaimed.
in his excitement. 'Katv told me last
night. 1 wisfe, though, you'd held onto
the new coat awhile.
" 'Why?' asked Mr. Blake, imperturb-
ably.
" 'Because,' said Sam, 'I'm going to
pay my own way now. 1 ve been oil to
day and hired out for the season to
Farmer Hedgeburton. You won't send
that money to Williston, will you,
father?
" 'You are too late,' was the minister's
answer. 'I ve just mailed the letter to
him.
"In fact, next day the kind merchant's
eyes were dimmed as he read these
words :
Dear Williston: My boy It alrno-t breaks
ray heart to say so- lias not proved worthy of
yuur (raoisnij, x nave ueciuea 10 return trie
sum wniob you sent me for uim last year, and
you win nna a urai t enclosed lor that amount.
Blaxi.
"Here I interrupted the narrator.
'Doesn't this story prove what I said at
the beginning!' 1 asked.
"Np; for that isn't the end of it. Sam
went down to Boston in the autumn with
a few dollars of earnings in his pocket.
ne had decided to give up college, and
so applied to Mr. Williston for a clerk
ship.
"He told him: 'I proved myself uc
worthy, as my father said. lSow give me
a chance to show mvsell worthy.
Williston gave him a position and he
worked there two years. Then an oppor
tunity offered to go West and take a part
nership in what do you think? The
clothing business? Sam jumped at it;
and you may believe he sent his father
the next Christmas the finest coat that
concern could produce.
1 am a well-to do man now, sir, con
tinued my acquaintance, suddenly speak
ing in the first person, "and, when we
get to (Jhicago, if you will come to my
establishment, I will show you my fath
er's (the minister's) old shiny coat, which
I preserve because it was the beginning
of my fortune, and made a man of me."
Ihen,' I exclaimed, taking him bv
the hand, "it is yourself you have been
talking about all this time. You are"
Sam, continued my new friend, nod
ding and smiling.
THE LADY'S BRIDGE.
Of the late Bishnn A inw lho follrvannot
anecdote is related: While presiding
over a certain conference in the west, a
member began a tirade against the uni
versities, education, etc., thanking God
that he had never been corrupted by con
tact with a college. After proceeding thus
for a few minutes, the bishop interrupted
him with the question: "Do I understand
that the brother thanks God for his igno
rance?" "Well, yes," was answer;
you can put it that way if vou want to "
"Weil, all I have to say," said the bishop,
in his sweet, musical tones, "all I have to
say is that the brother has a great deal to
thank God for."
"The archbishop has determined to re
build the bridge."
"The news is too good to be true."
"It is true, for I am the messenger to
the architect to whom the work is to be
committed."
"Toledo will pray forever for Don
Pedro Tenorio, if he carries out this de
sign." Such was a fragment of conversation
in the streets of Toledo, in the year 1390.
The ancient bridge, broken down by the
floods of 1203, and afterward rebuilt, was
now to be restored with great magnifi
cence. The architect was one whose
fame had extended far and wide, but this
promised to be the crowning achievement
of his art.
"Spare not," said the archbishop, "but
let the bridge be worthy of the town, of
its artist and of its founder. Let it typ
ify my munificence, thy genius, and the
strength and beauty of the city."
"It shall be worthy of all three," re
sponded the artist.
Troops of workmen were now engaged,
piles were driven, immense stones select
ed with great care were brought to the
river banks and wrought into shape.
The architect spent much of his time in
watching the gradual realization in con
crete form of his design. At first he was
blithe and cheerful, animating the men
with his own spirit, and full of devices
for smoothing away all the many difficul
ties that arise to impede such under
takings; but after a while his manner
changed, and in proportion as the bridge
advanced to completion, he became sad
and quite moody. One day he sat. and
gazed for hours at the bridge, wrapped
in sorrowful thought, taking no heed of
the by-standers, like one in an evil
dream. A soft hand was placed on his
shoulder, a low, shy voice gave gentle
utterance to his name.
"Louis I"
"Juanita!"
It was the girl to whom he was be
trot bed, and whose fate was to be linked
to his own on the completion oi tne
bridere.
"Why are you so sad, Louis?" What
is the meaning of this sorrow that seems
to darken all your life? Am 1 tne cause.'
Do you no longer love mef
"I love vou dearer than life."
She gave a little sigh of pleasure and
relief.
"I was afraid some stately dame had
stolen your heart away from poor
Juanita."
"Imnossible. I have no heart. It is
in your keeping."
"That's a pretty compliment, but it is
not tf ue : for if 1 had your heart X could
read in it the secret cause which has con
verted my gay lover into a moody, mel
ancholy man.
"I will tell you the cause, Juanita, and
my confidence will show you how much
I love you, for it places my life and
honor in your hands. Both, alas! will
soon be blasted.'
"Oh, say not so, Louis. I know you
are incapable of crime, and everything
else can be remedied.
"Find me a remedy for this. In the
plans for the construction of the bridge
1 have made a fatal oversight. Ihe mis
take is known only to myself, and I only
became conscious of it after all possibil
ity of correcting was gone. The bridge
is now encased in a network of scaffold
ing, shoring and supports of every kind;
but the moment these are cleared away
the center of the structure will fail in
the river, and that which was to have
been the monument of my skill will be a
hideous ruin, a ht symbol of my foliy
and disgrace.
Juanita was stunned by this unex
pected revelation. The vague fear in
spired by her lover's changed demeanor
had determined her question, but she
had not dreamed of a ruin so near and so
complete. In a moment she saw fade
from view all the happiness of the future
that had been living in her day-dreams
and giving a roseate hue to the winding
horizon of womanhood. The glowing
color of life changed before her eyes into
the blackness of death and despair.
Then, with the "woman's instinct that
seeks to comfort others, regardless of her
own anguish, she sought to console him.
"How cruel I have been to reproach
your sadness! How little did I think I
had so terrible a cause! But tell me,
Louis, can you devise no remedy?"
"None."
"Nothing but taking down the bridge
and rebuilding it?"
".Nothing else will avail.
"Well, let us trust in God. Perhaps
he will point out some way of escape.
H or me, 1 will go and pray to Uur liady
for her help and guidance. I feel sure
that this evil will be averted."
There was no foundation for her hope,
and yet it comforted him.
It was the night before the day fixed
for the final inspection of the bridge.
To-morrow the archbishop will pro-
nounce his solemn blessing on the work;
to-morrow the scaffolding and trusses
will be removed ; to-morrow the bridge
will stand forth in all its glory, a proud
addition to the many beauties of the
city; to-morrow. The night was stormy;
the wind and rain had swollen the river
into a tojprent, and Louis, as he tossed
restlessly upon his bed, almost prayed
that its force might sweep away the en
tire structure. It would be a less dis
grace than that which awaited him on
the morrow. He arose, and stood at the
window of his room. He looked out into
the night. His eyes naturally sought
the direction of the great bridge, but
there was nothing to be seen but black
ness, stay 1 What was that wandering
flame? His heart stood still as a dim
white figure, bearing in its hand a burn
ing torch, passed over the bridge. A
light was thrown over one of the para
pets. As the figure glided over the
doomed bridge, its progress was marked
by the springing up of lurid flames.
Then the white'and mystic figure van
ished from sight, and the bridge was on
fire.
The timber-work burned fiercely: he
wind fanned the flames into fury, and the
rain, instead of quenching, seemed to
stimulate its power. Then as the fire
began to flood the sky with its lurid
light, the city awoke. The great alarm
bell was ringing, and hundreds of anx
ious citizens thronged the river's bank,
anxious to help and save. It was in
vain. Among the latest arrivals were
the architect and archbishop.
"This is a sad end of your work, my
son," said the ecclesiastic, "but be not
cast down. The bridge shall be rebuilt,
and if in the course of the erection of
this one you have found anything that
could be improved, the new one shall be
even more magnificent than we had pur
posed this to be."
As the architect was gratefully ac
knowledging the archbishop's generosity.
he saw Jaunita with her father, approach
ing.
" x on are saved, she whispered.
"And you are my preserver, he re
turned. The destroyed bridge was replaced by
one of greater beauty, and there was no
fatal flaw in the second design made by
Louis. As for the beautiful incendiary,
she became the wife of the architect'
Before the marriage she sought the place
of the archbishop, and, under the seal of
confession, revealed the secret of her ac
tion. The good prelate, moved by the
courage and devotion with which love
had inspired her, not only forgave her
crime, but caused her image to be carved
upon the stone above the keystone of the
arch, as an emblem of loyal love. There
it stands to this day upon the Lady's
Bridge.
A Popular Mistake Corrected.
GettiDg married is not altogether
the one-sided affair that uauy peo
ple have supposed. The popular
idea that all the young women are
just crazy to marry anybody that
will come along, and that the reason
they don't get married is because
nobody will ask them, seems to be a
mistaken one. A St. Louis girl
and a St. Louis girl is as apt to have
good sense as any other girl has
been making some calculations which
are of much interest. 'Young men
who now have their powerful intel
lects centered upon the subject of
spring pantaloons and the newest
shade in neckties might contemplate
the matter with some profit if they
make their mirids reach around it.
The St. Louis young woman is like
most other young women in com
plaining of the scarcity of marriage
able young men, but she has some
reason about it. She figures out that
she knows perhaps 100 young men,
in round numbers, Of these she
thinks she knows about 30 intimate
ly, and of these thirty there are
not more than four whom she would
consent to marry for love or money
on the spur of the moment. It may
not be a pleasant way of putting it,
but what she says is that, taking 100
young men as they come and go,
only one of every 25 can be set down
as unobjectionable and able to make
a living for himself and wife. This
is an awful thing for those other 24
young men to think of, and it is not
necessary for one to be altogether a
philosopher to suspect that the St.
Louis girl is about right. She is ev
idently tired of hearing the endless
complaints about the uselessness of
the average young woman when she
knows that the average young man
is quite as much out of place in this
world. In fact, a useless young wo
man does stand a chance of growing
up to something or another, but a
useless young man doesn't do that
even by any sort of accident. Young
men have got to make a change in
themselves in some way; they are
liable to be wanted for something
6esides partners for the next waltz.
Philadelphia Times.
Negro Eloquence.
In reviewing our Texas exchanges in
one of them, the Dalles Times, if we are
not mistaken, are recited the details of a
case that certainly presents some of the
most remarkable features in the history
of jurisprudence in this country.
This occurred in Waxahatehie, during
the last term of the Ellis county District
Court. A colored man had been indicted
for entering into a conspiracy to murder.
He was brought to trial, the evidence
was strong, and in spite of the good
fight made in his defense by his attor
ney, he was convicted. A motion for a
new trial was made, and the Juege, see
ing that no error of law had been made,
and believing the evidence was sufficient,
promptly overruled the motion. When
the prisoners were brought in to be sen
tenced, this negro was among them.
When asked if he had anything to say
why sentence should not be passed upon
him, he said he knew anything he might
say would have no weight with the court,
as all the forms of the law had been
complied with, and he knew he must go
to the penitentiary, but that he had
something to say for the benefit of his
colored friends, and with the permission
of the court he would make a few re
marks. The court told him that he would lis
ten. The negro started off slowly and delib
erately, reviewing the testimony, show
ing the inconsistencies of witnesses
statements, and then, carried away with
the idea of the wrong done him. he burst
forth in a strain of eloquence seldom
heard.
When he sat down the Judge said :
Sam, I thought you guilty; I don't be
lieve so now, and will set aside the judg
ment overruling your motion for a new
trial, and give you another chance.
So eloquently had the negro presented
his case that the County Attorney dis
missed the case, and the negro walked
out of the court-room a free man.
This is the first case, in Texas at least,
where a man brought up to be sentenced
was ever turned loose. Every person
present says that the effort was the finest
one ever heard. The negro was unedu
cated and a common field hand.
Drinking Ice Water.
There is no more doubt that drinking
ice Water arrests digestion than there is
that a refrigerator would arrest perspira
tion. It drives from the stomach its
natural heat, suspends the flow of gas
tric juice and shocks and weakens the
delicate organs- with which it comes in
contact. An able writer on human dis
eases says habitual ice drinkers are us
ually flabby about the regions of the
stomach. They complain that their food
lies heavy on that patient organ. They
taste their dinner for hours after it is
bolted. They cultivate the use of stimu
lants to aid digestion. If they are intel
ligent, they read upon food and what the
physiologist has to say about it, how
long it takes cabbage, and pork, and
beef, and potatoes, and other meats and
esculents, to go through the process of
assimilation. They roar at new bread,
hot cakes and fried meat, imagining
these to have been the cause of their
maladies. But the ice' water goes down
all the same, and finally friends are called
in to take a farewell look at one whom a
mysterious Providence has called to a
clime where, as far as is known, ice
water is not used. The number of im
mortal beings who go hence, to return
no more, on account of an injudicious
use of ice water, can hardly be estimated.
Baltimore Sun.
A Chapter on Flirts.
If, by the term "prospects," as applied
to a young lady, you mean the probabil
ities of her getting a husband, then she
whose admirers may be called legions,
has very much poorer prospects than an
other has whose friends of the opposite
sex may be counted on the fingers of a
single hand. Now, it may be true that
everybody patronizes the identical mode
and fashion which everybody else sup
ports, for it is the easiest and most use
ful thing in the world to follow the
crowd. But that is not to say that a
young man wants for a wife the girl who
counts her beaux by the score and her
conquests by the dozen.
It is true that every chicken in a
a brood will leave a good dinner and go
in pursuit of the same object, if it sees
one of its flock running away with a
large sized crumb, or after an imaginary
worm. But it is not true that a young
man will forsake the modest, gentle girl
whose society he can enjoy without
rivalry to compete with a score of others
for the company of a young lady whose
smiles are free to all. There is indeed a
class of men who pay assiduous court to
the latter.
This pet of society generally possesses
many attractions. She has a fine instru
ment and plays tolerably. Possibly she
sings; invariably she dances. She is al
ways surrounded by the gayest of the
gay; and, in consequence of all these
advantages, whether she be pretty or
plain, her drawing-room is a very agree
able place in which to spend an evening;
or as young gentlemen are wont to say,
it is extremely pleasant to submit one's
self occasionally to be handsomely en
tertained. But I would not, on any
account, have, it supposed that I am look
ing in that direction for a wife. By no
means. Thus these gallants are wont to
speak, and, as a rule, they are not mar
rying men. But when one of them would
take to himself a wife, he goes East or
West, or North or South anywhere, to
find a girl unspoiled by society, and who
has not, in his presence, played the agree
able to a score of others, and whom he
strongly suspects any of them could
have had for the asking.
The worst thing for a girl, unless she
wants to live and die an old maid, is to
have too many beaux. She may be pret
ty, stylish, accomplished, graceful
anything you please it matters little.
The very fact that she has been the re
cipient of attention from more men
than she would need to know in the
course of a lifetime, places her on a
parallel with a worn out bootjack, desi
rable only to those who can't get better.
If girls would but take the advice of
their own sex, as graciously as they re
ceive the attention of the other, some at
least would cut loose a few of their
worthless acquaintances, and in future
guard themselves against the addresses
of too many beaux. Such, at least, are
the views of a thrifty young farmer, who
hopes to find a refined and business
young lady, who has not had too many
beaux, for his future companion. JEx.
Yes, He Could.
The Yalue of a Business Education.
"New bonnet, new bonnet twelve dol
lars for a new bonnet!" exclaimed Mr.
Slick the other evening, as his wife sug
gested a change from the winter styles.
"Yes only twelve dollars," she humbly
replied.
"Twelve dollars for a bonnet is a con
founded outrage and I know it," he went
on. "Why, I can buy two fine silk hats
for that money and have some straw
berry money left. It's a dead swindle to
ask twelve dollars for a bonnet."
"Well, I can't do any better.Mr. Slick.
That is the price and I must pay it or go
without."
"You don't know how to buy that's
what ails you," he growled. I'll bet
money that I can buy a twelve dollar
bonnet for eight dollars. It is all in
knowing how to handle the salesman."
"I wish you'd try it!"
"I will by George! I will! I'll bring
you up a new bonnet in the morning and
I'll get it four dollars cheaper than you
daro to!"
Mr. Slick was as good as his word. He
went into a millinery store next forenoon
with his eye teeth all sharpened and with
the idea in his mind that every bonnet
in the store was priced at exactly twelve
dollars. He looked around a little, se
lected a bonnet that pleased him, and
pointing his cane at it and calling up his
deepest voice, he inquired :
"Are you asking twelve dollars for that
bonnet?''
The woman flushed, looked from the
bonnet to the man, and was trying to re
ply, when he said:
"These are not -the times for out
rageous prices, and all buyers realize it.
I'll give you eight dollars for that bon
net and not a cent more."
"That-that bonnet"
"Eight dollars and no more!" he in
terrupted; and she put the article in a
box and took his money.
"What'd I tell my wife, eh?" whis
pered he as he went out. "I tell you it
takes a man to buy goods, no matter
whether it's fence posts or paper
cambric.''
When he sat down at home and took
the cover off the box and held up the
bonnet, Mrs. Slick asked:
"How much did she charge you?"
"Eight dollars, madam; while you
would have paid twelve."
"Kichard!" she said as she tried to
laugh all over at once. "I was with the
lady next door when ehe ordered that
bonnet for her cook and the price was to
be four dollars. You see, it"
He held up his finger, counted three
fives out of his wallet, and left them on
a chair for her.
The Mystery of the Lakes.
There is a mystery about the American
lakes. Lake Erie is only sixty to seventy
feet deep, but Lake Ontario is five hun
dred and ninety-two feet deep, 230 feet
below the tide level of the ocean, or as
low as most parts of the Gulf of St. Law
rence ; and the bottoms of Lakes Huron ,
Michigan and Superior, although the
surface is much higher, are all from their
vast depths on a level with the bottom of
Ontario. Now, as the discharge through
the river, Detroit, after allowing for the
probable portion carried off by evapora
tion, does not appear by any means equal
to the quantity of water which the three
upper lakes receive, it has been conjec
tured that a subterranean river may run
from Lake Superior, by the Huron to
Lake Ontario. This conjecture is not
impossible, ami accounts for the singular
fact that salmon and herring are caught
in all the lakes communicating with the
St. Lawrence, but no others. As the
Falls of Niagara must "have always ex
isted, it would puzzle the naturalists to
say how these fish . got into the upper
lakes without some subterranean rier;
moreover, any periodical obstructions of
the river would furmsb a not improbable
solution of the mysterious flux and reflux
of the lakes.
It is said by good authority that
ninety-seven of every one hundred that
engage in mercantile pursuits fail. It is
also contended that there is no necessity
for so large a percentage of failures; that
the existing cause in most cases is a lack
of business education or training, and
that defeat follows in the footsteps of
ignorance. A man would not undertake
the practice of law, or medicine, or en
gage as an engineer or an artist, without
a preliminary education for the special
field of his endeavors. But thousands
recklessly enter into the arena of busi
ness, seemingly without thought, and
certainly without previous special educa
tion. Edward T. Freedley, in his prac
tical treatise on business, says: "Every
business that is worthy of the name has
two departments; its science, to be un
derstood by study, and its art, to be ac
quired by practice." Many writers be
lieve "that business education should
commence at youth, and that, instead of
sending a young man off to college to
learn Greek and Latin against his will,
if his predilections f avor, after a thor
ough practical eduoation, he shouid be
inducted into the mystery and arts of
that particular line of trade for which he
expresses a decided preference. The ad
vantage of an early education is, that his
knowledge comes, as it were, automatic
ally, and he really grows up into and
with the business, while, in later years,
learning is acquired by much harder
effort and more mechanically.
To the successful merchant there must
be ever present a wide scope of informa
tion. He must be versed in the styles
and qualities of goods, and know their
adaptability to ends and uses. He must
know their comparative worth and rela
tive fineness ; their special adaptation to
given localities as well as their seasona
bleness and durability. He should have
full knowledge . of the various markets
for the goods he deals in, and inform
himself as to the advantages which one
market affords over another,' in point of
price, or other feature of benefit. He
should employ the best judgment in
purchasing the proper quantities in their
season, and study to forecast the market.
He ought to carefully weigh the question
of supply and demand, and particularly
note the liability of his goods to deteri
oration. But how can all these things be
accomplished without special fitness by
study and experience? A neglect to ob
serve any of the things we have suggest
ed is very likely to entail loss, if not dis
aster. How can a mere novice in business
guard against any of the results which
follow from any of the conditions here
suggested? He must grope blindly in
the dark, and if failure threatens he will
be powerless to arrest its progress; be
sides, by his ignorance, he heeds not the
impending shadows that fall across his
path, betokening a sure coming misfor
tune. Wooed by his ignorance, he, as it
were, floats on in utter heedlessness of
that fate which soon will engulf him in
irretrievable ruin. But to him who is
rooted and grounded in the knowledge of
his business, and the dangers that beset,
there are materials of assistance on every
hand that aid in averting the calamity of
failure, and become oft times the stop
ping stones to a future success. In the
race for business existence, the educated
and enlightened merchant has by far the
best chance. Ignorance is handicapped,
but education has the inside track, and is
bound to win. The young man who
looks forward to a mercantile career will
do well to thoroughly acquaint himself,
by study and practical observation, with
the laws of trade and business, and once
having fortified himself with a sufficient
knowledge, he may reasonably hope for
abundant success in his chosen field.
Commercial Advertiser.
Stephens on Websteb. A Washing
ton letter to the (Jhicago JSews reports
the Hon. Alexander H. Stephens as
saying: "I think Webster was the worst
slandered man I ever knew. It is the
general impression in the country to day
that Webster was a great drunkard.
You hear it spoken of even now when
ever his name is mentioned, but it is an
outrageous slander. I will tell you
what I know myself. For six years,
while we were both here in Congress, I
lived next door to him. His house was
as familiar to me as was my own garden
I was in there a great deal, and he was
as often in mine, and, in all the time of
my acquaintance with him, I never saw
Webster when he was in the least
affected by liquor, or under the influence
of it in any way. I have dined with him
at his house and at mine; 1 have met him
at dinners and affairs outside, and I
never saw him in the least inebriated. I
never heard of his being intoxicated but
twice, and on one of those occasions a
dinner he was said to have made
speech that was grandly eloquent. He
was, as I say, one of the worst-slandered
men I ever knew. Why, a friend told me
once that he had known Webster for 20
years, and in all. that time he never saw
him intoxicated.
JOB PRINTING,
-THE-
Gazette Job Printing House
IS NOW PREPARED TO DO
Plain and Ornamental Printing,
Aa neat and Cheap as it can be done by any
Office on the Coast.
bill Beads,
JU itcr Heads
Mote heads,
. fctn.ementa,
P. ogrammes,
Ball Tickets,
Invitations
Circular,
Jfuslnets l ards.
Visiting Cards,
La beta.
Dodfrn,
small Posters.
Envelopes.
Legal Blanks'
Bank Hates, .mm
Snipping Receipts,
Order Books,
Varna,
Tags.
lite., Ete
-Orderg by mail promptly filled. Esti
mates furnished.
Rupture
$15
TO $6000 A YEAR, or $5 tv$20 a day
in your own locality. No risk. "Wo-
mon )aqq uroll aa niPii TdTlV Tnakfi
than the amount, stated above.
No one can fail to make monev fast. Any one
can do the work You can make from 50c to 16
$2 an hour by devoting your evenings and spare
time to the business It costs nothing to try the
business Nothing- like it for money making
eker offered before. Business pleasant and strict
ly honorable Reader, if you want to know all
about the best paying -business before the public,
send us your address and we will send you full
particulars and private terms free; samples Worth
$5 also free: you can then make up youf mind
for yourself Address GEORGE 8TINSC-N &
CO , Portland, Maine. l:31yl
" From a Merchant.
Dayton, W. T., Feb. 10, 1879.
W. J. Home, Proprietor California Elastic
Truss Co., 702 Market street, San Francisco Sir:
The Truss I purchased of you about one year ago
has proved a miracle to me. I have been ruptur
ed forty years, and worn dozens of different kinds
of Trusses, all of which have ruined my health,
as they were injurious to my back and spine.
Your valuable Truss is as easy as an old shoe, and
is worth hundreds of dollars to me, as it affords
me so much pleasure. I can and do advise all,
both ladies and gentlemen, afflicted, to buy any
wear jour modern improved Elastic Truss imme
diately. I never expect to be cured, but am
satisfied and happy with the comfort it gives me
to wear it It was the best $10 I ever invested in
my life. You can refer any one to me, and I
will be glad to answer any letters on its merrits.
I remain, yours respectfully,
D. B. Bonnkll.
Latest Medical Endorsements.
Mabtinez, Cal., Feb. 17, 1879.
W. J. Kerne, Proprietor California Elastic
Truss Co., 702'Market street, S. F. Sir: In re
gard to your California Elastic Truss, I would say
that 1 have carefully studied its mechanism, ap
plied it in practice, and do not hesitate to say
that for all purposes for which Trusses are worn
it is the best Truss ever offered to the public
Yours truly, J. H. Cabothers, M IX
Endorsed toy a prominent. Medical lu
st i nte.
San Francisco, March 6, 1879.
TV. J. Home, Esq. Sir: You ask my opinion
of the relative merits of your Patent Elastic
Truss, as compared with other kinds that have
been tested under my observation, and in reply I
frankly state that from the time my attention
was first called to their simple, though highly
mechanical and philosophical construction, to
gether with easy adjustibilitv to persons of all
ages, forms or sizes. I add this further testimony
with special pleasure, that the several persons
who have applied to me for aid in their special
cases of rupture, and whom I have advised to use
yours, all acknowledge their entire satisfaction,
and consider themselves highly tavorcd by the
possession of the improved Elastic Truss.
Yours truly, Barl- w J. Smith, M. D.
Proprietor Hygienic Medical Institute,
635 California street, San Francisco.
A REMARKABLE CURE.
San Fhancisco, Oct 26, 1879.
W. J. Home, Proprietor California Elastic
Truss, 702 Market street, San Francisco Sir I
am truly grateful to you for the wonderful CURE
your valuable truss has effected on my little boy.
The double truss I purchased from you has PER
FECTLY CURED him of his painful rupture on
both sides in a little over six months. The steel
truss he had before I bought yours caused him
cruel torture, and it was a happy day for us all
when he laid it aside for the California Elastic
Truss. I am sure that all will be thankful who
are providentially led to give your truss a trial.
You may refer any oue to me on this subject.
Yours truly, Wm. Peru,
G38 Sacramento Street.
This is to crtify that I have examined the son
of Wm Peru, and find him PEKFECfLY
CURED of Hernia on both sides.
L. Dexter LvFORn, M. D.
Surgeon and Physician,
Trusses forwarded to all parts of the United States
at our expense on receipt of price.
Semi Stamp for Illustrated Catalogue
and Prtee ..iwt.
Giving full information and rules for measuring.
California Elastic Truss Co.
702 Market Street, S. F.
HALL'S
SAFE AND LOCK CO.
CAPITAL, $1 000,0OO.
General Office and Manufactory,
CINCINNATI, OHIO.
Pacific Branch,
'411 and 213 California St., San Francisco.
( HAS. H. DODD & CO., PORTLAND,
Agents for Oregon and Washington Ter
HALL'S PATENT CONCRETE
FIItE-PROOF SAFES.
Have been tested by the most disastrous confla
grations in the country.
They are thoroughly fire proof.
They are free from dampness.
Their superiority is beyond question.
Although about 150,090 of these safes are now
in use, and hundreds have been tested by some
of the most disastrous conflagrations in the
country, there is not a single instance on record
wherein one of thera ever failed to preserve its
contents ierfectly.
HALL'S PATENT DOVETAILED
TENON ANO GROOVB
BURGLAR-PROOF
AFE8.
Have never been broken open and robbed by
burglars or robbers.
Hall's burglar work is protected by letters
patent, and his work cannot be equaled lawfully.
His patent bolt is superior to any in use.
His patent locks cannot be picked by the most
skillful experts or burglars.
By one of the greatest improvements known,
the Gross Automatic Movement, our locks are
operated without any arbor or spindle passing
through the door and into the lock.
Our locks cannot be opened or picked by bur
glars or experts, (as in case of other locks), and wa
will put from $l,0O0 lo $10,000 behind them any
time a;ainst an eaual amount.
THEY ABE THE BEST SAFE
Made in America, or any other country.
One Thousand Dollars
To any person who can prove that one of Hall's
patent burglar-proof safes has ever been
broken open and robbed by
burglars up to the
. Jf' present time.
C. W. Pool, Traveling Agent.
Office with C. H. Uodd A Co., Portland , Oregon
'C. B. PARCELI.S, Manager, S. F.
AUGUST KNIGHT,
Oatixit Maker,
UNDERTAKER.
Cor. Second and Monroe Sts.,
CORVALLI8, . OBKMW.
Keeps constantly on band all kinds of
PUBNITUBE
COFFINS ANO CA8KET8.
Work done to order on short notice, and
at reasonable rates.
Oorvallis, Jau. 1. 177 Ucltf