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About The Corvallis gazette. (Corvallis, Or.) 1862-1899 | View Entire Issue (Nov. 13, 1885)
, , , i 1 " ! SUXDEEED FRIENDS. Otai was it I, or was it you That broke the subtle chain that ran Between us two, between us two? Oh! was it I, or was it you? Not very strong the chain at best, Not quite complete from span to span: I never thought 'twould stand tho test Of settled commonplace, at best. But oh! how sweet, how sweet you were When things were at their first and best, And we were friends without demur, Shut out from all the sound and stir. The little, pretty, wordly race! Why couldn't we have stood the test The little tost of commonplace And kept the glory and the grace Of that sweet time when first we met? Oh! was it I, or was it you That dropped the golden links and let The little rift, and doubt, and fret Creep in and break that subtle chain? Oh! was it I, or was it you? Still ever yet and yet again Old parted friends will ask with pain. The Independent. RED'S EXPERIENCE. . Ned had not a great deal of cash when he was married, so he and his wife decided to board for six months. Eva had been a useful girl at home, that always helped mother, and when she became mistress of one room with "the use of the parlor for callers," she gladly did all there was to do, even to carrying the wood for their fire "so that dear old Ned wouldn't have to bother; he just sat down and toasted his toes by the fire without ever a thought of who kept it going. When the young people had saved a little money for 'the necessary furni ture and went to housekeeping, Eva began by slipping about very carefully in the morning till breakfast was near ly ready, "so the dear boy couldrest," and he snoozed away the morn ing hour, regardless of the heavy work that he should have been doing to save the girl that, such a little while ago, he had promised to "love, honor and cherish." But Ned loved his wife.andhis home, and after a while, when a little baby girl came to stay at their house, Ned's pride and pleasure knew no bounds. Involuntarily he would quicken his steps as he neared the home and thought of the dainty little darling in ruffles and embroidery, that had al ready learned to coo and jump for joy at his appearance. Ned was duly proud of her accomplishments, but about this time he began to have mis givings least Eva should be growing a little careless of appearances, for he did dread above all things else the thought of her ever becoming one of the untidy, slovenly appearing women into' wh;eh he had seen so many pretty girls deteriorate. One thing was cer tain baby did not look as nice as she used to, and Eva seemed to be losing some of her spirit. He must speak to her about it. That night he found the opportunity he was waiting for when he came home and found baby at the front door with a smudgy face and dirty dress. He took her in his arms and carried her back to the kitchen, where Eva was getting supper. How surprised she was to see the 'pretty little white dress that she had put on a few minutes before, when she set her in the hall to peep through the blinds and watch for papa, while she made the tea and cut the bread for supper. But baby had interviewed the hat rack in the meantime, and found one of the muddy rubbers that Ned had thrown on the lower part of it late last night when he came in. It wasn't real easy to find fault, but he managed to tell her how disappointed he had been lately to notice that baby was hardly ever as clean aud nice now when he came home as she used to be, and if there was anything he did like to see it was a sweet, clean baby. Eva explained that lately she had been creeping, which made an aw ful difference, which Ned thought a very flimsy excuse, for the floors did not look dirty, and baby never went out of doors; how could that make her clothes dirty? One week after this he had another one that was very different. He was on his way home from business, when a friend asked him to ride. He got in and rode but a block or two when the horse ran away, spraining Ned's ankle so severely that he had to be carried home by friends who ran to his assist ance when he was thrown out. They got him to bed before the doctor got there, and when he came he advised him to stay where he was for a week. At the end of this probation he was able to sit in an easy chair, with his foot resting on another, and here he stayed for two weeks more. But the time was not wasted that Ned was thus obliged to spend in doors. Itgavehim the first glimpse he had ever had of his home as it was when off dress pa rade. He had never seen Eva work much, because she had always had a desire to make his home quiet and restful for him while he was in it, so no mat ter how hard she had worked beforehe came, or how she should have to hur ry when he was gone, she never did any work that she could possibly help when he was at home. A little bit of fancy work busied her fingers while she sat and talked with him, but nothing more matter-of-fact was ever permit ted in sight. And Ned never realized how things got done. If they were not done he noticed the lack, but when everything ran smoothly, that was only as it should be, and he hardly gave it a thought. But now he saw things as they were. He realised that every fire that cooked his meals nad to be made by his Eva's own hands;, that the same hands must carry in the wood and carry the ashes out, bring the water from the cistern and. take the slops to the inconvenient alley drain, and he was heartily ashamed of himself. One day as he saw her go ing about these disagreeable duties for perhaps the thousandth time, he said: "Eva, why didn't you tell me to do that long ago, instead of doing it your self all this time?" "0, I could manage it very well be fore baby came, and after that, when I had so much more to do, although I often wished I had some one to do these things forme, Ihated to askyou, and so kept on doing them myself." "Well, you won't keep on after I can stand on my feet." Nor was that all that Ned learned in that three weeks. He found out j why the baby did not always look as ! clean and sweet as she had while a tiny tiling in long dresses. And when he had seen Eva take off every stitch of clothes the baby had for the third time in one day and put them in the dir-ty clothes bag, with the j knowledge that it was her own hands that would have them all to iron next week, he protested: "Now, Eva, I wouldn't dress that baby clean again to-day if every woman in town saw her as dirty as a pig. What's tho use of killing yourself." "But don't you know, Ned, how much you always thought of sweet, clean babies?" "Yes; and I know what a pi-ecious fool I've always been about the very j things a sensible man ought to be ashamed of himself, not to know with out teaching. I only wish ninety-nine ; of every hundred husbands had to I stay in the house three weeks just as I have done, and they'd be 'taught.' ' They'd get over thinking their wives had such a fine time, and so much leisure fordoingeverythingthey chance to find undone and grumble about, or I'm a fool for certain." Burlington Hawkeye. A Disgraceful Scene in the Geor gia Legislature. Special Dispatch to the St. Louis Globe Democrat. Atlanta, Ga. A lively sensation was created in the House of Represen- : tatives when ;. joint resolution on General Grant's death was received from the Senate'. The Senate resolu tion was brief, simply stating that the General Assembly heard with regret of the death of the great man, and would adjourn out of respect to his memory. Mr. Lamar offered a substitute, I speaking of his death as aNational ca lamity, and moving an immediate ad- J journment. Mr. Harrison, of Quitman County, in an excited manner, moved to amend by striking out the part referring to the General's illustrious service. Mr. Lamar, who is a cousin of Secre tary Lamar, and was a gallant Con- '' federate soldier, said that he believed 1 his resolution was expressive alike of I tho feelings of the House and the p'eo pie of Georgia. Mr. Jake Dart, of Glynn, one of the leaders of the House and an eloquent orator in an excited and very emphatic manner, walked from his seat down I the aisle toward the Speaker's stand, i and said: "Who could ask a smaller tribute than this? Thank God I have divested myself of prejudice. I have felt his strong arm, but I remember the terms he gave us and they were terms that no conqueror but a mag- j nanimous one would have given. Iam : as true in my fidelity to the State of Georgia as any member on this floor, bat I do say, in God's name, as peo pie and patriots, as American citizens, show respect to the office he held if j not to his memory as a man." Great excitement and applause fol- lowed this. Mr Harrison arose, his long red j whiskers and red hair redder than ev er, his face at red heat, and his eyes flashing fire. He said: "I regret ex- j ceedingly this most unseemly scene, bat when I am asked to compliment the memory of any man, alive or dead, upon whose service rest- j ed the last hopes of my native land, then may you charge me with what ever you please. It shall not have my j support. It shall not be said that I complimented the services of a man j who deprived Georgia of her rights as i she believed them. Uuseemly is this quarrel. Anxious to prevent it, have I been earnestly asking the originator of it to take a different step. Never here nor elsewhere will I, under any circum stances, attempt to say on any occa- j sion that Georgia was wrong that her ! sons were traitors and compliment j the author of her misery. I will not doit." Great excitement and hisses. Other members spoke in favor of the resolution and severely attacked Har- j rison. Dr. Felton arose in his seat and de tivered a handsome tribute to Grant, and censured the effort to defeat the resolution. He closed by saying that if General Grant had never performed another duty or another act except his fidelity to Southern leaders, "I , would to-day with all my heart, a , Southern man that I am, indorse this resolution honoring his memory." Harrison here said that, as it was the desire of the House to pass the resolution, he would withdraw his ob- j jection. The resolution went through with applause, and the House adjourned. THRILLING NARRATIVE. A Wonderful Escape from the San Diego Wade, of Portage, Summit County, recently a convict in a Mexi can prison, condemned to labor in a mine half a mile beneath the surface of the earth, recently told the story of his sufferings to a representative of the Cleveland Plain Dealer. "I am 31 years old," he said, "and I feel as if I were twice that age. In 1878 I ob tained employment on the Mexican Central Railway in the capacity of passenger conductor, and ran between Chihuahua and the City of Mexico. My trouble began on the 12th day of February, 1884. My train ran at the average rate of thirty-eight miles an hour and when I left Chi huahua that morning at 8 o'clock I told my engineer, McFarland, to slack up ten or fifteen miles an hour in passing Sierra Blanco, a quarry twenty miles out, where about 1,000 Mexicans are employed by the govern ment getting out stone. Every pay day these laborers would get drunk and hang around the track, and as this was iay day I warned my engi neer to slow up around the Sierra Blanco curve lest he might hurt some body. Well, it happened just that way. McFarland saw a fellow lying right across the track and whistled for him several times. The man moved, and my engineer thought he'd got off. He didn't however, and was struck. Of course he was dead, and when we reached Domingo we were both arrested, McFarland and I. After a delay of three mont hs we were taken to the City of Mexico and tried before the court of assizes, presided over by the Governor of Senora. I had two Mexican attorneys and paid them 811,000 to get nie out, but the preju dice against Americans was very strong, and I was sentenced to two years' imprisonment and to pay a fine of $o00. McFarland's sentence was just twice as hard, four years and $1,000. "But your term of service has not elapsed yet?" suggested the reporter. "No," dryly remarked Mr. Wade, "not yet. That is in the regular fash ion." "When I got my sentence," he re sumed, "I appealed to the American Minister, but noticing was done forme until I managed to get a letter to the St. Louis Globe-Democrat, and then intervention was of no avail. I was taken to the Tortez Penitentiary, and employed as understeward. I madean impression of the key to the stockade, but just as I attempted to escape I was discovered and placed in irons. Then I was sent to the San Diego mines, 2,285 feet underground. My work compelled me to kneel all the time striking a drill. A Mexican in the mine insulted me, and I knocked him down. For this I was sentenced to receive thirty-nine lashes on my bare back, but the sentence was sus pended until my term of confinement should expire. I met some men down there who had not seen daylight in nine years. After working in the mines three months the hydraulic pumps in use there gave out, and I told the cap itano of the gurd that I was a me chanic and could repair the machinery. The engineer sent for me and 1 stayed up two days fixing the pumps. One of the men in charge belongs to a cer tain secret society to which I belong, and he told me that if I could get up on the cage he would hoist me. Ac cording to agreement I returned to work, and on the third day I made a break for Hberty. Three or four times I started, but each time my courage failed and my heart was in my mouth. At last I took my lamp off my hat and dashed it to the ground. That meant certain death to me if I was caught and I ran to the cage and gave the signal to hoist. Im mediately the cage began to move, but I had not been lifted five feet when the three guards fired their double barreled carbines as me. None oi them hit me, however, and 1 was drawn up safely. Near the mouth of the mine I found a burro tied, and with out asking many questions I mounted and made tracks for the American line. That day I rode seventy miles." Mr. Wade halted a moment to mop big drops of perspiration from his forehead. When he had cooled off a bit he said: "It's no wonder I get excited in telling my experience. It's only six weeks ago that I escaped, and I have never felt safe until I struck American soil. I made my escape on the 28th of May, and from that day I knew no rest for weeks. I traded my burro for a mustang, but one night the mustang got away from me and I had to foot it . Footsore and famished I made my way through the prairies, getting a ride and a square meal here and there. The first American town I struck was Tombstone, A. T. There I was all right." Keeping Up With the Fashion. Charles Dudley Warner in Harper's. It is, of course, necessary to wear our hair and mount our scarf-pins and tie our cravats and set up our cut throat collars and to walk in the for eign mode. But it is ridiculous to be so slow in our imitation. Fashion ought to have more alert scouts out in Europe and quicker methods of diffusing the new styles here. We are always behind time. Now, before we get universally and well settled in the Bond street walk, tho English youth will be walking in an entirely different manner and we shall be as much out of fashion as a last year's almanac. How do we know now that it is the .correct thing for a youngmanto stand with a thumb in each trousers' pocket? It may be as out of date as that old and independent American way of wearing the thumbs in the armholes of the vest. Very likely when we are adepts in the high-shouldered, crooked elbow, rushing gait, the Pall Mall clerks may be turning out their toes and sauntering along with a sort of bowie-knife nonchalance, caught from Texas ranch life. We need decorative young men's societies to keep us up tt the mark. ! What Men Fall in Love With. Men fall in loye, they say, with beau ty, with goodness, with gentleness, with intellectual qualities, with a sweet voice, with a smile, with an agreeable manner, with a lovable disposition, with many ascertainable and measur able things, and yet we find them con tinually falling in love with women who are not beautiful, nor good, nor wise, nor gentle, nor possessing any ascertainable or measurable thing. You'll find one hundred reasons given for fallingin loye, or being in love, and rarely the right reason which is com monly simply because a man cannot help ft. He is in love because a mys terious force in nature has touched him. The woman may beunbeautiful, heartless, selfish, coarse, frivolous, empty, but it the magic of nature something of the magic, I suspect, that Puck used on the eyes of Titania touches him he sees not one of these things in their true aspect. Yes, the Titanias that have fallen in love with men crowned with donkey heads, and that have fallen in love with serpents, thinking them doves, are many and all because a diabolism or a mystic fury in nature that delights in bring ing incongruous elements together for the sake of a dance of delirium. Ex. A Vigorous OTd! Age. The friends of Rev. Br:. James Free man Clarke; as well ae others, will read the following, written by him, with interest. I cheerfully comply with your request to give you a brief account of my habits of living. I find myself at the age of seventy-five still able to do a good deal of work, and I attribute it, under Providence, to the following causes. 1. I am not of an anxious temper ament; I do not worry. I am not to any great extent annoyed by disap pointments or failure; and it has never disturbed me when I have been cen sured, so long as I believed I was doing right. 2. I have a great faculty for sleep ing. Although ableto keep awake when necessary without much injury, I can always fall asleep any moment when sleep seems desirable. These frag ments of rest are, no doubt, or great ser vice to me. 3. I have always,, from childhood, been fond of outdoor exercise. I be gan to ride on horseback when only about eight years old, and when a lad I joined with delight in all out-of-door sports skating, swimming, row ing and inlaying ball, and also indoor athletic exercises, such as fencing, box ing and gymnastics.. But ali those be longed to an early period of my life. 4. I have few fixed habits, and am fond of change. When I have done anything in one way for a few times I enjoy it differently. But if this tend ency has its advantages, it, on the other hand, prevents me from receiv ing the benefit which comes from es tablished methods of Work. 5. Although when young I smoked, I have not used tobacco since I was 26. In half a century I have only smoked two cigars, and those only be cause I happened to be where the air was malarious. 6. Finally, I love work, and espec ially brain work. My professional du ties as a clergyman have been to me a source of great happiness. I have also written several books and many arti cles for the press, and I believe that this kind of work has been beneficial to my health. TUSKER'S WOOING. Burned on a Silver Tray. The congregation of the St. John Street Methodist church were treated a few days ago to a novel sight, witnessing the burning of a mortgage bond of $6,000, the last item of debt upon their church. The services open- j ed with a full anthem, followed by re- j sponsive reading. "Hove Thy Church, ' 0 God," was sung with much feeling by the choir. The minister delivered j a short prayer, after which another j hymn was sung previous to the preach- j ing of the sermon by the pastor, the Bev. A. H. Wyatt. After an eloquent dircourse the pas tor stepped down from the chancel and t ook from within the folds of his vest a folded piece of manuscript. ' "This," said he, "is amortgage. Until j now I've never seen one. Have you any idea what the holders of this j could do! They could turn you out of your church, but, thank Heaven, they j can't do it now, tor it is paid." Calmly and deliberately Minister Wyatt tore the paper into slips, and crumpling it up into a ball placed it on a tray. Lighting a small lamp he ignited his paper ball, and while the i whole congregation sang the doxology the mortgage bond of $6,000 was I burned into ashes. When the services ended the trustees assembled and held a second cremation. They, too, have had personal interest in the debt, in asmuch as the names wee all signed to the note. Upon the same tray which had held the ashes of the mort gage bond the note was burned, and so ended the last traces of a debt once threatening the St. John Street Meth- I odistchurch. During the service many i of the older members of the church were moved to tears by the eloquent ; and pathetic words which fell from the j speaker's lips. The ashes are now en closed in a sealed envelope, but will j soon be placed in a silver urn which, I with the lamp, will be enclosed in a , glass case and hung in the parlor of the church. New Haven News. j Where tlie Prince Consort Died. London Letter in Charleston News. A long time ago I went over the . house and came to a room which had been religiously closed for years. It i was opened by special order and there issued from it a certain hallowed odor which exhales on opening along-closed sanctuary. The blinds were drawn and semi-darkness prevailed. We drew near a table and my guide ex- j plained that this was the late Prince Consort's room and everything was to-day just as he left it when he died, j The dust was nearly an inch thick on 1 his writing desk; a half-used quill was i lying crosswise where it had fallen from j his hand or its rack; there were sever- I al articles about, a paper-weight, a book, and to the right, near the abandoned quill, a little carved frame, and in this frame a por- j trait. I think I can see it now the youthful Victoria painted by Winter- j halter. Her Majesty has a sweet, fair ; face and rosebud mouth and she wears an apple-green gown, the lint just glim ering through the folds of laces. This picture was always found by the Prince Consort's side, and when this sanctum was vacated forever no one dared to touch it or even the smallest object in the room. By the queen's orders it stands to-day as it stood then. The dust is a little thicker on tapestry, chair and table, the quill still lies in its old place and the little royal pic- j ture smiles as sweetly as of yore from its half-dimmed frame. I need not 1 say that this chamber is never opened j on a revel night, but I could not help thinking of it as we walked Once more ' through other lovely but le3S sacred j apartments. Although: Farmer Tucker had long dreamed of a visit to Chautauqua, when he found himself at that Mecca of devout excursionists, early last Au gust, the brawny man was tempted to doubt his own identity. The holiday surroundings were wholly unlike any thing to which he was accustomed in his prosy New England home; the rich crowded program offered was in strik ing contrast to the dull monotony of farm life. When this son of toil first entered the auditorium, and saw that amphitheater crowded with thousands of people listening breathlessly to the full, sweet tone of the grand organ, his crampedJ, selfish heart was strongly touched and expanded. For an in stant the wish crept in that he had asked Jane if she would like to come, too. But there was not muchtimefor his own thoughts, for as the music ceased a white-haired speaker arose and was introduced to the audience as John B.Gough. At this announcement Samuel Tuck er's satisfaction was to great to be kept to himself, and he said, half aloud, to his next neighbor: "Well now, I am beat to think I'm going to hear the man I've wanted to hear for more'n 20 years." The young lady gave an amused little laugh, but it fell unheeded upon the unsophisticated speaker whose attention was already caught by the orator. Mr. Gough commenced his brief lec ture with one of his inimitable de scriptions. The story was of a man who applied for a divorce and was ad vised by his eminent lawyer to try the effect of making love to his wife as he liad done before marrying her, instead of resorting to the measure he had proposed. It included also an account of a late visit when the happy husband withdrew his application; and, fairly dancing with glee, assured the lawyer that his experiment had worked like a charm, that "Sally had become an amiable and affectionate wife as a man could ask to have. " Mr. Gough's representation of the scene' drew forth long applause, but Samuel Tucker's interest was of too serious a nature to permit his joining in the laughter . As if half unconscious, for a moment, of tho multitude about him, he said in an undertone: "I'd be willing to take my oath that wouldn't work with Jane. All I have to say is,that man's wife was different from mine; I'd as soon think of feed ing serrup to a mummy as to begin sparking again with her." It would seem that this course of reasoning did not wholly dismiss from the farmer's mind a train of thoughts and possibilities suggested by the lecturer's story. In every treat of the following days at sacred service or popular lecture, at the museum or by the model of the Holy land, while listening to concert or gazing with throngs upon the illuminated fleet, the far away husband was relentlessly fol lowed by a vision of hard worked Jane, looking upon him with reproach ful eyes. At length he quieted his con science with the determination to prove that his estimate of his wife was correct. "When I go home," he said to himself, "I'll just show the woman some little attentions, and I'll see they won't have any more effect on her than they would on-the old bay mare. Jane's bound to be sullen and obstin ate, and I suppose I may as well make up my mind to it." On reaching home the resolution wasuot easily carried out. When Mr. Tucker planned some gallantry to ward his wife the very thought made him feel so unnatural and foolish that post ponement resulted, but the Sabbath offered an opportunity so convenient that he improved it. The farm was nearly a mile from church, yet Samuel Tucker had for years been in the habit of driving back alone, leaving his wife to attend Sun day school and then walk home as best she could through mud or dust. Great was Mrs. Tucker's astonishment, therefore, on the Sabbath after his re turn, to find him waiting for her at the close of the Bibte service. The faintest suspicion that ne had driven back to the church for her did not cross the good woman's mind; she supposed he had business with some of the brethren, and was hesitating whether to walk on as usual or to suggest waiting for him, when the farmer called out: "It's jest as cheap to ride as to walk." Silently the wife to her seat in the buggy, and silently they drove home, much to the husband's satisfaction,for it seemed to him a proof of the woman's dull, un appreciative nature. "She didn't act pleased, but was only dazed like, as I knew she would be," he muttered, as he wentabout his mid-day "chores." At the same time Mr. Tucker was conscious ot having performed a most praiseworthy act, and felt so comfort able that he resolved to repeat the ex periment. So on the following Sab bath Jane again found her husband in waiting, and as she mounted the high buggy ventured to utter a half audible "thank you," and to ask Samuel if he had been waiting long. To which Mr. Tucker replied that he had just reach ed the church, and didn't know but he might find she had started on foot. This reply seemed to Jane a positive assurance that her husband had really returned for the sole purpose of taking her home; and her chilled heart glowed with a warmth unknown for years. She longed to tell her husband how much she appreciated his trouble, but imagined it would sound "so foolish" that she kept her pleasure to herself. The third Sabbath was rainy, and as she washed the breakfast dishes Mrs. Tucker kept thinking, "I wonder if Samuel means to come for me this noon; it would be such a help in the rain; I'm half a mind to ask him!" This resolution was soon stifled, with the reasoning which had silenced many similar resolves in the past ten years. "No, I won't ask no favors; if he don't think enough of me to come, why he needn't." Although proudly unwilling to seek :any attentions Jane longed for some demonstration of her husband's love and care; she had walked home in the rain too often to greatly dread such exposure; but a week before the wife had ; tasted the joy of being con sidered, and longed for some new and further proof of her companion's af fection. Mrs. Tucker's heart leaped for joy, when at noon she saw the old mare's head from the- lecture-room window. Indeed her hungering heart became quite unmanageable, and entering the carriage door, melted Jane sobbed out; "I'm sure its very good of you, Sam uel, to come back for me this rainy day," and then the tears flowed so fast that further words were impossible. Completely taken by surprise, Mr. Tucker exclaimed: "I declare I hadn't no idea you'd care so much about it!" "I wouldn't mind the walk," re sponded the wife, "but Samuel I'm so happy to have you care enough about me to come!" The strong man was brushing away a tear from his own cheek now; his tenderer better nature was mastering the hard, selfish spirit which had long possessed him, and with coughing and choking he said: "Jane, I see I've made an awful botch, of our married life; if you're a mind to forgive me, I'll see if I can't treat you from day to day as woman ought to be treated." This confession was all too much for the weeping wife and she answered, quickly: "You're not a bit more to blame than I am; I've been proud and ob stinate; but I tell you what it is, we'll begin all over again." The ice was now thoroughly broken, and that afternoon Farmer Tucker and his wife had a long talk over the past and future. And in the evening when they were about to start for the prayer-meeting to be held in the neigh boring school house, the renewed hus band stooped and kissed his wife, say ing: "Jane, I've been a thinking that married life ain'; so different from farming or any other occupation. Now I ain t such a tool as to tttmk a held will keep a-yielding if I only enrich it once and plant it once; I have to go over the same ground every season; and here I suppose you was a-going to always do as you did when we were a courting, without my doing my part at all." "If I hadn't changed any, maybe you would always have been as ten der as you used to be," pleaded the wife. "Perhaps so and perhaps not; but I don't mean to leave you to try no such plan. I tell you what it is, Jane, I feel as if we hadn't never been really married till to-day. It most seems as if we ought to take a wedding tow er." "I'm afraid we'll have to wait until next summer for that," was the smil ing response. "I suppose we shall, but we'll take it then certain; and I'll tell you where we'll go, wife that's to Chautauquy!" The Congregationalism. Yankee Psalm Singing. Boston Globe. Parochial singing has turned all colors in New England since the round heads jumped ashore. One attends an "Olde Folkes' Concerto," or "Polly Bassett's Singing Skew," and supposes he now knows how they did it. But those samplers give us only one color out of the many. One might as well think we nad seen all the wondrous bonnets of the changing year from see ing one. The story of the musics is an interesting one. Those were ferocious singers, the Puritans, on both sides of the pond. As the mill-girl said, she "couldn't dance handsome, but she could dance strong," so it was with their psalming. German churches had been tuneful ever since Luther, a century before. Much of the strength of his re form movements hinged on popular singing. He finished up the old love ditties and sung psalms to them. But the amorous songs of 1500 were so gruesome that it was no scandal to use them in worship. "Old Hundred" was one of them. The English pews did not sing till a short time before the settlement of this country. The stock of "tennes" our fathers brought over was small and cheap. Here is the way they droned it: Do, do, do, re do, si do, re. Do, do, do, re do, do si, do. This was the primary color, rich but not gaudy. For words they had psalms, limping; in tender-footed long meter. They sang them at their devotions. They wailed them to the plow horse. And: when they went forth to "warre," they stood in line and warbled lugub riously together, which scared the na--tives worse than, powder. He Reformed. Council Bluffs Nonpareil: There is a young man in. this city, a good-looking young fellow who has a sweetheart out in the country a few miles, and he spends two evenings every week in her society. A few nights ago he staid to the usual hour, and as he passed out to the front door he discovered that it was cloudy and dark. He did-not relish the idea of driving alone through, the gloomy night, and hinted about a good deal to get an invitation to re main, but it was not forthcoming. But the young man was equal to the emergency. Going down the steps he artfully contrived to slip and fall gent ly to the ground. Thereupon he set up a tremendous groaning. The ruse worked admirably. The girl screamed, the men folks jumped out of bed, and carried the young man ten derly into the house. His horse was put up and he was assisted to undress, and deposited in the spare chamber.. He had hardly begun to chuckle over the success of the stratagem when the girl's mother put in an appearance armed with a mustard plaster a foot square and ten horse drawing power. This she immediately proceeded to clap on the small of the young man's back, where he had incautiously located the damage to his frame. For two mortal hours that woman sat by the bed, and was not satisfied till she beheld with her own eyes a hlister and inch deep. The young mania now a reformed har.