The Eugene City guard., June 27, 1885, Image 2

i A LOVE SON 3 TO A WIFE.
! Tin the boautiful, lovebrcalhlnf lom!n
j hour,
And Hie breeze Is rocking etch ilumtiertoi
And 'warn the elwrtorlne: hawthorn bought
Lovers are breathing their tonli-r rows.
8hy I'd eredroop:n)ror reliant eyes,
'And the air It full of del abtful sijrlis;
'I'hwkt flow and dimple, arid iwl l.H psrt-
And, '), how loodly heart answers iteani
I For vrry g!adnc young pnlws sing
. Ah. love In a wililt-nng, w. telling thmir:
'An eiiiuinle. tremulous. hcn-n born strain.
That nils tbv aoul wllh dellc.ous pa n.
'We hare been lovers for forty year:
O, dear cheeks fwle.l n I worn with tear,
.What an eUxiu-nt story of lore ye tell!
! Your roses are dead, yet 1 love ye well.
O, pale brow shrined In aoft silrr-rr halrl
Crowned with life a sorrow, and Ilnud with
care;
Let me rr-ad by the light of th Mars elMe
Those dear, dear records of faithful lore.
Ah, fond, fond eyej, of my own true wife!
Ya hare shone to clear through my
chequered I fe,
To have shed ur-h oy on It thorny way,
'That 1 can not think ye are dim u4ay.
Worn little hands, that have toiled o long.
Patient and loving-, and brave and strong!
Ye will never tire ye will never rent,
L'ntll you are crosscj on my darling's breast.
O, warm heart throbbing so close to mine!
Time only strengthens such love atlhinn,
And Drove Hint the holictt love doth lint
When summer, and b.auty, and youth are
past.
Fannie Tnrrnier, in the Quleer.
FBOM DEATH TO LIFE.
Why a Warrior's Hair Changed
from Black to White.
Yon wonder that my ha'r ts so white
while I am Dot an old man an years go?
Tcrhapn your hair would be an white as
niino if you had paused through the or
deal of death in life that it was my fate
to endnre.
Tell you about it? Ugh! I shudder to
think of it. Everything coiues up before
me so vividly when I tell my strange
story that I seem to be living the terri
ble hour of terror and suspense over
again: I do not tell It oiten, but U you
care to hear it, listen, and when I am
done tell roe if you wonder my hair is
whiw.
I was a soldier in the lnte war, and it
was my fortune to be wounded in an
engagement in Virginia. A ball s'truck
me in the shoulder, and I fell to the
ground and knew nothingof what hap
pened for hours after that
When I came to myself I was in an
ambulance and was being taken to the
hospital. Tho jolting of the wagon
caused almost unbearuble pain in my
wounded shoulder. At times it seemed
as if my siiHoring would drive me wild.
!y the time wo reached our diminution
I was so weak I could hardly sicak
above a whisper. I was taken from the
ambulance and carried into the hospital
ward, and a surgeon was sent for at
onee.
Ho camo presently a kindly featured,
mild-voiced man, who won my couli
dence at once. Ho asked mo some ques
tion about my wound before he pro
ceeded to examine It Seeing how weak
I was he gave me something that soon
quieted me.
When the dmg had takon elTect he
examined my shoulder. I saw from his
face that be considered amputation
necessary.
"I wont consent to havo my arm ta
ken off," I cried. "I'd rather suffer
any amount of pain than the loss of
that" .
But younlght lose your lifo," he
suggested.
"I might as well, and be done with it,
as to go through life with one arm," I
answered. "1 11 never consent to any
operation that will deprive me of it"
lie reasoned with me in vain. At
length he left me.
.Shortly after the nurse having charge
of that ward came in. The surgeon
had made out a prescription for me,
and I swallowed the modicine he sent,
wondering if lifo or death was to be my
lot
1 fell into a broken, troubled sleep,
from which I woke to the conscious
noss of a keen, kuifo-like pain in my
shoulder, a sudden darting pain that
ran through all my nerves and tingled
to the extremities of my body.
In this condition the surgeon found
me when be made his next visit
"I knew how it would be," he said,
slinking his head. "1 tell you what it
Is, my uov, you had belter submit to
the loss ot a limb than a lost of life. It
will soon be too late, if this itillamma
tlon goe on, to risk an operation."
"1 can not consent to it," I persisted,
thinking of the disadvantage I would
be laboring under in attempting to tight
the battle of life without my trusty arm.
'Besides, the shock of amputation
nilght kill mo. It probably would. As
well die with my arm on m to have it
taken off and then die,"
It might, it is trim," said the sur
geon; "but the chances of recovery after
an operation would bo far greater than
now. However, if you are determined
to hang to it we'll do the best we can
for you."
Then he proceeded to dress my
wound. The pain the operation caused
was terrible. (Jure I almost fainted
awav.
"Grin and bear it," said the surgeou.
"After a little you will be more com
fortuble, I think. But 1 tell you the
truth when I say that you will suffer far
more with your arm, if you live, than
you would In having it taken off."
it isn't the dread of the pain of am
putation that makes me refuse to have
It taken off," I answered, "it is simply
because 1 can not boar tho Idea of going
'through life with but one arm o depend
on."
, For a time after . my wound was
dressed I was tolerably comfortable.
Then the shooting pain I have spoken
of commenced running all over me
again. My suffering was so Intense
that I could feel the sweat starting on
my fore h-d. I could not keep back
the groans of agony which rose to my
linn.
Presently the nurse came In. Seeing
how terribly 1 was suffering he called
the surgeon, who chanoedto be j-.jwing
through the hall.
: "Poor fellow ! he's bound to have a
hard time of It," the surgeon said.
Give him this powder now, and if it
'doesn't relieve bira give another. It
may be necessary to give two; but don't
do so unless he suffers Intensely."
! I swallowed the powder. llradually
i the sense of excruciating pain died out
and at last oblivion came.
It w is late at night when I wok
from the stupor produced by the drug.
Just us it became daylight the pain
began apiin, with redoubled intensity
It would seem to concentrate itself for
a moment in ruv shoulder, then spread
all over my body like r pples on a pud
dle of water into which one drops a
stone. Every ripple of pain seemed to
burn its way along nerve and artery,
and I could'not hclpshriekingoutiuthe
intensity of my torture.
The nurse was greatly alarmed when
be came in and hastily emptied some
powder from a vial he carried into a
glas of wa'er, and held it to my lips.
I drank the draught eagerly, hoping for
relief from pain, or death, I cared not
much which.
Again that deadly stupor crept over
me, and 1 felt consciousness leaving my
bra:n. Soon I knew no mora.
When again a vogue sort of conscious
ness came stealing In upon my be
numbed senses as the first faint beams
of coming day steal In upon the gloom
and darkness of night, I became aware
of the sound of vo ces in the room. 1
could hear words spoken, but they
seemed far off. Gradually they seemed
to come nearer, until at last I could dis
tinguish what was being said.
"He died day before yesterday," 1
heard tho surgeon say, in tones full ol
respectful sympathy. "The nurse found
him guttering terribly and gave him t
large dose of morphine. That seemed
to quiet him. The nurse reported tli
case to me, and I came ai soon a I
could. When I came he wa dead. 1
am sorry that you could not have been
here sooner, madam. He often spokf
of his mother. If I had dreamed how
near the end was I would have tele
graphod at once. Iljit I supposed there
was no limned ate danger.
"I wish I could have been here," a
voice choked with tears made reply
the voice of my mother. "O, my pooi
bov!"
Then I felt warm kisses pressed upon
my lips and tears fell like rain upon my
face.
Good God! They thought I wai dead!
The terrible truth flashed over me like
For many hours I had been lying
there wrapped in the icy semblance of
death, and my mother was preparing to
take my Dody h6me for burial! I tried
to open my eyes, to speak. In vain!
No muscle moved in response to the die
tales of my will. The current of life
was frozen in my veins.
It was terrible, terrible, terrible, the
awful, sickening feeling that crept ovei
me when I found that mv body had
thrown off allegiance to my will and
that I was powerless to move a llnreror
lift an eyelid. I was dead, to all out
ward appearance Once the thought
came to me that perhnpsthis was really
death and my soul hud not yet taken its
leave of tho house of clay. but I could
not believe that, and I strove to shake
off the lethargy upon me again and
again. But my will could not accom
plish its purpose. I felt mysolt receding
into unconsciousness again, as a wave
f'ocs out from shore till its identity is
ost I was a wave on the tide of life
going out Into oblivion. I thought then
that 1 was indeed dying. The semblance
of death was fast becoming its reality.
Then came another long and utter blank
In my existence.
When again consciousness returnod,
it brought a sensation of intense cold.
I seemed to be in some region of Ice and
frost All my energies seemed con
gouled in deadly numbness. Again I
tried to move, to open my eyes. Not a
muscle stirred.
How long was this to continue? 1
asked myself that question, but I could
not answer it. Then the thought came
again that after all I might be really
dead. How did I know that the soul
left the body whon what men call death
takes place ? Might it not remain and
be conscious of earthly things the same
as before? Who could tell what hap
pened after the breath of life has left
the body P The lips of those called dead
nevor openod to divulge the secrets of
death. Perhaps I was rinding them out
But no! no! It could not be that I was
dead! I was in a trance, liut they be
lieved 1 was dead, and they would oury
me alive!
By slow dogrces the truth of ray posl
tlon camo upon inc. I was in my cotlin.
I leave you to imagino, if you can,
what I felt But you can not No one
can who has not been through the same
terrible experience.
Then steps came into the room. I
felt myself lifted and borne out I was
carried for somo distance. Then I knew
that those who bore me were ascending
steps. 1 heard the creaking of heavy
doors, and thon tho deep and solemn
tones of an organ broke forth in the
Dead March in Saul.
I knew, then, that I was in the church
I had attended previous to my enlist
ment I was back in my old home and
friends had gathered to pay their last
tributo to my memory.
Then the organ's mighty voice died
out in a long minor chord, and the
minister read in slow. Impressive tones":
"I am the resurrection and tho l.fo;
whosoever believeth in Me, though he
be dead, yet shall he live again."
Then came messages of comfort from
the word of God to sorrowing hearts. I
heard the sobs ot friends about me, as
the good man spoke. Then he prayed.
A hymn was sung. Then the lid above
my face was lifted, and friends came
about me to take the last look. I felt
tears falling ou my face. I felt that my
last chance had come. Now, if ever, I
must shake myself free from the deadly
lethargy upon me. It seemed as if my
frantic efforts to break the bonds that
bound me must avail and set the current
of life in motion.
My mother came to me last She
leaued across the coffin and laid her
cheek against my face, and whispered:
O, my boy, you were all I had left
and 1 loved you so!"
Somehow those words seemed to
touch tV hidden spring of life. The
stagnant current began to move again,
my will resumed lis power over my
body; I opened my eyes and cried out:
Mother!"
I can not describe the scene of terror
and excitement that followed. Imagine
how it would be if you saw the dead
come to life. For months after that
many looked at roe with frightened
face, as if they could not rid themselves
of the impression that I had really been
dead and that they beheld my ghost
l)o jrcu wonder my hair is white?
What I wonder at most is that my
mind stood the strain of that terrible
exierieuce. X. Y. Journal,
NO MUSIC FOR HIM.
A Oratleraaa Who ilelleved That He
Would Look at the Mirk florae.
Old 'Squire Haggleson. who came to
jown the other day to urge the petition
asking that young Zeb Sailor might
uot be banged, was induced by a friend
to at'end a rendition of "II Trovatore."
The old gentleman put on his specta
cles, expecting to see a great caHir, but
In diHaiHintment, be turned to his
friend and said:
"This is a sort of gingin' show, ain't
it?"
"0, yes. it is an opera."
"Singing, is it ?"
"Yes. a grand opera."
"Don't they give no p'ints that a fel
lar can ketch on ? Sulhin that a fellar
ken tell tho folks when he goes home '
A man kain't tell nothin' about a song
He ken ornly say that he heard it and
that's all Now some time ago I went
to a thing that wuz full of pinU. W'y
I sot down an' talked an hour about it,
an' at the log rollin' I showed the boys
how the whole thing went, but this
thing don't 'ear to have no place to
hinge on. Now look at that fellar with
the tin clothes on. He don't say nuthiu',
don't do nuthin'; all I ken say about
h'm is that he wore tin clothes. Then
Oscar Tiler will say, 'tin clothes?'
Yes. tin clothes.' I will reply, then he
will sav, 'that's a deuce of a note. A
fellar kain't jump with tin clethes oti.'
That shuts me up, you see. No, I'm
afeerd that I kain't say nuthin' about
this show. I.awd a missy! look at that
woman with the lino duds. My lands!
how she hollers. They call that singin',
don't they ?"
"0. ves, that's sing'ng. It is grand
opera'
"Yas, but when air we going to have
some music? It's a strange thing that
some folks don't know whut singin' is.
Now, thar's my daughter Ann. Ef she
was here it would tickle her to death to
hear that gal squeal. I alius did feel
sorry for a pusson that ain't got no year
for music.
"Don't talk so loud. This is consid
ered very line mus'.e by educated
people."
"1 reckin so. I'm glad they like it
Sav, did you ever see a lilly r'ar up an'
squeal? Wall, that woman puts me In
mind o' one. Now a person that pre
tends to be Interested, in this thing
would be annoyed by the squealin' of a
filly, but blamed if I ken see much dif
ference an' I've stirred round a good
bit, too. We must all give the My the
credit o' bein' the most naehul.
Now look at them fellers singin' at each
other. Do you call that music?"
"O, yes, it is the music of anger."
"They air mad, 1 reckin?"
"Yes.'"
"Then whv don't they say so? Now,
when a man giU mad, hu don't feel
like s
line."
like singin'. Cussin' la more in his
That's all well enough, 'Squire, but
this is an opera"
"So I see, but I kaint find out the
pln'ts o' the thing. Wall, b'leve I'll
go."
"Hold on, 'Squire, don't be in a
hurry."
"O, I ain't In a hurry. I like to
hear singin' an I can put up with most
any sort o' noise, but you must excuse
me. 1 don't like to see people dodge
music this way. Wall, good-tye. Jim
Anderson's hosa is down with the botts
an' I b'leve I'll go round an' look at
him a while." Arkansaw Traveler.
A TOUCHING. SCENE.
Deaf Mutes Repeating th Lord's Prayer
la Plymouth Chnrrh, Brooklyn.
A roguish-looking little fellow, prob
ably twelve years old, stood on the car
peted platform near Mr. Beecher's arm
chair at Plymouth Church the other
night and repeated tho Lord's Prayer
with such infinite pathos so touching
because it was wholly unconscious
that fifty people In the large audience
devoutly Joined in his "Amen," and
nearly 200 more wined tho tears from
their eyes. But little more than a
year ago the boy was a street waif in
Danbury, Conn. People pitied him and
gave him pennies because he was deaf
and dumb. A benevolent gentleman
gent him to an oral school for deaf
mutes in Mystic. He watched the lips
of people in the audience fifty feet
away, and repeated words after them.
"Maggie," Herman." "Hartford,"
"boy, horse," and several other words
were spoken as plainly as four out of
five school children of his age would
have pronounced them. "Brooklyn"
bothered him. He called it Bruglin.
The boy could not hear a sound. He
never has since he was born. So keen
was his observation that he repeated
words by watching the shadow on the
white wall of the person who uttered
them. He did not shirk a syllable of
the Lord's Prayer, nor stumble once in
his articulation. His pronunciation of
some words was peculiar, but the whole
was rendered with such plaintive sim
plicity and peculiar falling inflection at
the termination of sentences that many
ladies who heard him sobbed.
Another boy stepped on the platform,
a sharp little fellow in short trousers.
He watched people's lips with eyes like
a lynx and shouted the words after them
as vociferously as a newsboy. Some
body tried him with hard words, such
asNebuchednezzar, but he pronounced
them before the tones of the first speak
er's voice had died away. People
pointed to articles 6t clothing, such as a
cuff, collar, glove or coat and the boy
told them what they were doing. He
never dreamed of the applause that
followed him to the seat A. '. Times.
A writer in Harper's Saiar says
"the ears should be so placed as not "to
be higher than the eyebrows or lower
than the tip of tho no.se." People who
.Are dressing for a party should not for
get this. FhilaJdi'hia Call
A roan's education Is not complete
until he runs a newspaper for a while.
Then he learns a good deal that he did
not know before, Ualveston (Tex.)
Xevs.
There are said to be 634 seams
tresses in New York City, each of whom
earns only one dollar a week.
NURSING.
Ulots on the Car of th Mick la Country
Home.
When a person is dangerously ill, the
chance of recovery depends as much
upon the care that is taken of the pa
tient as opon the medicine given. Every
doctor will admit that he has lost cases
in his practice which might have been
saved by careful nur.dng. This is a
terribly serious thought to the woman
on whom the responsibility falls when
sickness comes into a homo. To know
that the" life, for which, perhaps, she
would gladly give her own, may be
sacrificed to her inexperience, is enough
to make her welcome any hints that
will enable her to do her part efficiently
and welL
In a city, many comforta can be pro
cured for the sick which are not so
easily obtaine I in the country, and at
first sight it would seem aa if the
dwellers in towns had the advantage,
but it is not so. In one most important
point, they are at a serious wadvantage.
Outside of tho country house lies an
Immeasurable volume of pure air, wait
ing for an opportunity to rush in and
bring refreshment and life to the suf
ferer. Nothing can keep it out but the
intervention of the nurse, who has al
ways been taught to dread and fear "a
draft" as the greatest evil in existence,
and so makes her patient brea'he over
and over again the air in the room,
laden with impurities, exhausted of
oxygen, and totally unfit to be taken
into the lungs of a well person, much
less to be forced on one strug
gl ng with disease. It is true that
a draft is an evil not to be tol
erated for a moment; tut in order to
have the air of a room pure, it is not
necessary to have a current of cold air
blowing directly on the sick bed. If
the windows are not arranged to open
at the top, one can easily be made to
do so by removing the cleats that are
nailed on the window-frame to support
the upper sash. It can then be kept in
place by a stick inside, one end resting
on the upper part of the lower sash and
tho other against the top sash; the
length of this stick determines the
width of the opening. If u strip of stout
flannel is nailed over the aperture,
which should be usually ab ut an inch
wide, there will be a constant supply of
fresh air admitted, and no draft The
flannel ought to be four inches wide,
to permit tne window to be lowered to
that extent whon necessary. If the tem
perature outside is very low, more cold
air will be let in by this plnn than can
be conveniently warmed. It is then best to
have a piece of wood, about three inches
high, the exact width of the window, and
place it under the lower sash. An open fire
is invaluable as a ventilator; wheu there
is a fire-place in the room, it should
always be used. If it is necessary to
make a tire in a close stove, an iron or
tin vessel, tilled with water, should be
kept on the stove, and never allowed to
be less than two-thirds full. If the dis
ease is infectious, a tablespoonful of
carbolic acid solution, and a teaspoon
ful of spirits of turpentine, should be
added to every quart of water. The
temperature ought not to be lower than
sixty-eight degrees, nor higher than
seventy-two degrees, and a thermometer
Is Indispensable by which to regulate it
In cases of fever, frequent baths are
ordered by the doctor to assist in cool
ing the skin, and in any disease, one
should be administered . from time to
time for the sake of cleanliness. The
function of the skin, in removing im
purities from the body, is most impor
tant, and it can not perform its otlice
properly unless its millions of pores are
kept open and free to act V hen this
is not done, its proper work is thrown
upon other organs, which in sickno-s
have enough to do to attend to their
own business. Before giving a bath,
the window should be closed and the
room made warm. Have ready a basin
of water, soap, a piece of soft cloth and
a couple ot towels. Place the patient
on a double blanket, with another over
him, removing the night dress, pass the
hand under the upper blanket, bathe a
small portion of the body, and wipe dry
before proceeding farther, until the
whole has been gone over; then replace
tho night dress, and removo the blank
ets, taking care to keep the sick person
covered. "All this can Da done under a
blanket without the least exposure.
Persons 111 with inflammation ot the
lungs have been bathed in this way
with good results. When the teeth can
not be brushed the mouth should te
washed with a piece of linen, dipped
In cool water, twice a day, the inside as
well as the outside of the teeth being
attended to. When there Is fever, fre
quent sponging of the face and hands
is very refreshing aud soothing. Eliza
beth Uobinson Scovil, in Country Gentle
man. Oranges.
The taste for oranges seems to be as
decidedly on the Increase in France as
tho taste for tea Fifty years ago the
annual consumption of oranges in the
country barely reached 15,000,000
pounds weight of tho fmlU It had
risen to double that quantity in 1856, to
over 50,000,000 pounds in 18G0, and last
year over 100,000,000 pounds of oranges
were Imported. At one time Spain was
almost tne sole source of supply; but
both Italy and Algeria now send their
nuota of the fruit to tho French market
the Algerian contribution being by far
the larger. I he exportation or oranges
from the colonies to the mother coun
try, which only amounted to 16,000
pounds in 1836, attained the large total
ol io,wu,uuo pounds in isat. A. J
rosL
The report of the New York Society
for the Suppression of Vice for 1885
classifies tho crimes of the youth of both
sexes (under 21) as follows: Murder,
74; attempted murder. 104; burglary,
179; highway robbery, 84; grand lar
ceny, 72; larceny, 5io0; forgery, 18;
arson, 4; manslaughter, 2; counterfeit
ing, 6; train-wreckers, 4; mail rob
bery, 4; picking pockets, 8; suicide, 37;
attempted suicide, 24. A band of a
dozen boys Is mentioned all under ten
years of age who had voted to kill
their mothers. Oue of them proposed
to practice upon a servant girl first, but
she objected, and the plot was dUoov-red.-.V.
1". Uerald.
WILLS.
Slrnlnf and Wltae-ln Neaary -Wb.
Ca. M.k Who Can T.k. by Will.
While it U true, in the language of
Holy Writ, that "we brought nothing
intothia world and can carry nothing
out," yet the natural desire of men to
direct the use and enjoyment after
the r own death, of property acquired
by them during life. 1 recognized and
favored by law. This win not always
so, for in the eariy days of the Feudal
system the first person to take possession
of the premises of another on his death
had tho right to occupy and enjoy.
Gradually, however, laws of descent
came into operation, and till later,
under King Henry VI1L, of EnglanJ, it
was mode lawful to dispose of property
by will. In this country every State of
the Union has a ' Statute of Wills," and
books treating of the law of wills are
numbered by the score. Many a pros
perous farmer derives title to his broad
acres from th3 will of some ancestor,
and will In turn, bv will, hand over tho
estate to same favorite son. This
method of passing title to land would
bo mire universally employed than it
is, were it not for foolish prejudice
against seeming to adm't that the
"King of Terrors" is liable to call for
one at any time. Common sense ana
sound legal judgment say: "Draw your
will at once. Have a compeieni lawyer
attend to it, so that you may be sure
your property will go where you want
It to go, on your death, and so that
those who come after you can have no
excuse for bitter and expensive wrang
ling." A will la a much simpler legal instru
ment than a deed, and does not re
quire it subtile formalities and tech
nicalites. Almost any writing, signed
and witnessed, and intended as a final
disposition of one's property at death,
constitutes a "will." No particular
form of words is necessary, and the
intention of the party making the will
when ascertainable, is carried out,
even if such intention be expressed in
unusual - and bungling manner. The
writing does not have to be on paper or
parchment (which we have seen in a
former article" is required in deeds), but
writings on slates and boards have, in
certain cases, been held valid wills. A
will, however, must be signed and wit
nessed. In some cases, a signing on
the margin, or at the beginning of a
will, has been held sufficient; but where
the statute says that the will must be
"subscribed," a signing on the end of
the document is necessary. In " most
States, as in Illinois and nearly nil the
Western States, the signature of two
subscribing witnesses is required, but in
a few States three witnesses are neces
sary. In this connection, a word of
caution against witnessing a will by a
person who is named as "devisee."
(The person who takes property under
a will is a "devisee," and the one who
makes the wiil is a "devisor.") Thetat
ute commonly provides that the one
who witnesses the will must have no
interest in the propetty disposed of by
the will. If a person appears both as
devisee and witness, and there are not
the number of witnesses required by
law to prove the will without him, such
person will not be allowed to take the
property bequeathed to him, under the
will
The general rule is that everybody of
lawful age (eigntecn in women ana
twenty-one in men) and of ".sound and
disposing mind ana memory, . can
make a valid will. Married women, in
most States, can devise their lands as
freely as if single. Although a person
is weak minded, he or she can make a
will, if intelligent enough to understand
what he or she Is doing. Mere ecccn
tricity on the part of a devisor doe not
Invalidate bis will, and a deal ana auniD,
or a bliud nerson. can make a will.
Attempt to break wills on the ground
of insanity are frequent and while some
courts say that a devisor is presumed to
have been sane until it Is proven that
he was insane, about an equal number
of other courts say that the parties who
produce the will must prove that the
maker of it was sane at the time he
made it If a person is of sound mind
when he makes his will, it' is not inval
idated by his afterward becoming in
sane. Neither cau he, while insane.
revoke a will made when sane.
There is very little restriction upon
persons taking by will. Devises to in
I ants, idiots, insane persons, married
women and corporations, are all sus
tained at law. A valid devise can be
made to an unborn illegitimate child.
If a person marries and becomes a
parent after having made a will, the
will is thereby revoked; for the law
presumes that in the changed condition,
as regards family ties, the maker of the
will must have changed his plan with
regard to f-e disposition of bis worldly
effects. Of two clauses in a will, incon
sistent with each other, the clause last
written will prevail, while the exact op
posite is true in case of a similar con
tlict in deeds. If the devisor is unable
to write, by lack of education, or on ac
count of physical infirmity, he can sign
by his mark, or direct some one to sign
his name for him in his presence. Seal
ing is never necessary to a . will, which
in that respect differs from a deed. No
will la of any validity until the death of
the person who makes it, and may be
revoked at any time or changed in any
respect Revocation can be made by
burning, or cancellation, or tearing, by
a codicil, by a separate writing, or by
subsequent will, expressly revoking a
former one. All codicils should be
signed and witnessed as carefully as the
body ot the instrument itsell . o.
Judd, in trairie Farmer.
All on account of a comma: The
following sentence appeared in a news
paper a short time ago: "The prisoner
said the witness was a convicted tniei.
This statement nearly caused the pro
prietors of the newspaper some trouble,
and yet the words were correct When
their attention was drawn to the matter
and proper punctuation supplied the
sentence naa an exacuy opposite mean
ing: "The prisoner," said the witness,
"was a convicted thieJ." All the Year
Bound.
Some Indians use tortoise shell
scalping-knires, probably on account of
the old fable, in which it was alleged
that the tortoise got away with the
Tammany's Grand tathem.
JOHH KELLY.
Win. A. Croffut says: In appearance
John Colly is not unlike Gen. Grant, and hs
speaks in a slow voice like Grant I hear
that Grant and Kelly nave often been ml,
taken for one another on the street
Kelly's parents were poor. Ha went to
the public school ; was employed for a time
as office boy on The New York Herald. Hs
afterwards learned the trade of mason and
grate setter, and ma'le a Rood deal of. money
in legitimate business. When Tweed was at
the culmination of his career Kelly was trav
eling in Europe, where he spent a year or
two, and learned French and German, with
his wife as teacher; and he came horns to
find an honest leader wanted. He completed
the rout of the ring; and wheeled Tammany
Hall Into line to lead the reform element
In 1878 ha became comptroller, of the city
of New York and reduced the city's debt
for the first time in its history. From 1760
to 1870 the debt of the city increased till
it had reached the sum of 1112,000,000.
Kelly Increased revenues and reduoed
expenses, so as to reduce the debt $12,000,000
during hi term of service. As a lecturer
for charity he has brought $100,000 to ths
causa. He is a frank, straightforward,
downright speaker, and his earnestness at
ways interests his audience.
The first office Kelly held was alderman,
being elected as a reformer. Then he served
one term in congress, after which he served
two terms as sheriff. He Is worth at least a
million and receives more applications for
private charity than any other New Yorker.
He reads much and deeply, is acquainted
with history, and is so fond ot Shakespeare
that it Is with great difficulty he can keep it
out of his speeches before Tammany. He is
fond of the fathers. "Study the character
and methods of Thomas 'Jefferson," he onos
said, while speaking in the Fourth ward,
"and pay less attention to fat Rooney."
In Ilia Prime at Kignty-one.
JOHN KBICSSOH. ,
Capt:.John Ericsson, the distingnisbsd
engineer, completed his eighty-first year sa
July 31. From the time when his little tur
ret! ironclad, the Monitor, engaged and
destroyed the formidable Confederate iron
clad, the Merrimac, Captain Ericsson's nam
has been almost a household word, but com
paratively few people have a notion of what
be looks like or how he lives. Buried in his
work, be spends his time in his old-fashioned
house at No. 86 Beach street New York, and
seldom goea out or receives visitors; and
when he does they are never allowed above
the parlor floor. On the top of the house is
a revolving turret The interior of the
house is plainly furnished, almost without
ornaments, bnt containing numerous work
ing models of.hls many inventions. Among
these are caloric engines, (he steam fire en
gine, astronomical instruments and ironclad
war vessels. His latest, perfected work is
the Destroyer, which he claims will demolish
any other ironclad vessel afloat For many
years post be has been engaged in the con
struction of instruments to determine defin
itely the temperature of the sun. Ho has
already found that the solar intensity
reaches a temperature of several millions ot
degrees. Capt Ericsson's voice - is louder
than an ordinary fog horn, and his earnest
way ot talking makes him seem to be greatly
excited at almost all times. He seems to be
and says ho is in the prime of life. He
works "incessantly, Sundays included, lives
temperately on vegetables and bread, and
practices strictly regular habits. So far as
indications go, he is likely to work for thirty
or forty years longer.
nf
George AI. rnllrnan.
As president of the Pullman Palace Car
company, Mr. George M. Pullman is known
to every locality traversed by railroads; also
as founder of the wonderful city near Chicago
which bears his name.
Dame Nature Lev for Politicians.
Baltimore News.1
The apple crop this year is said to be of
an extraordinary character, surpassing that
of all previous seasons since 1880, which was
also a presidential year. Ths fact is con
sidered rather notable, sine it seams to in
dicate that nature with her usual kindnea
adapts herself to ths needs of man, and pro
vides the means for plenty of cider In the
times of exciting politics.
A Mrs mi v-wuavr.
Philadelphia Call
Edith: "What a funny little Jellyfish. It
has such a small body and such long, this
feelers."
George: "That is not a jelly tLh."
Edith: "Isn't itr
George: "No, it's a dude la bathing."
bare.