Image provided by: University of Oregon Libraries; Eugene, OR
About The new Northwest. (Portland, Or.) 1871-1887 | View Entire Issue (Dec. 29, 1881)
THE NORTHWEST, THU11SDAY, DEOKMBER 29, 1881. J. -ROGERS, COBBLER. BY HELEN DAWES BROWN.' "Fir mass Toor Hbos As tiwxl At W A UetUr to , - f - - r J. Hooks CobU'r" DM ,'- ..., I read It once, twice, three timet, till it began to chase Itself roand In my bead, like a cat after her own tall. I ru fascinated bj its faultless rhythm, by the subtle charm of Its rhyme, by the lawless abandon, pf its capitals. I think It would soon hare set Itself to music In my whirling little .. brain, if a voice bad not cried out: . r " V :.v ut Wal, little girl, how do you like my new sign ? Don't you call that first-class poetry 7" .-r-r ; .'Yea, it's "very nice poetry," I answered. And then I went on boldly : "fiuQ ieca word In It . that Isn't spelled right" ' ' - "Not spelled right ? now'i that ? How's thatT I shall have to bobble out and take a look at It. .... You're a prelty noticln little critter, ain't ye V A hinted that this sort of "too" was usually 1 spelled with two os ; but Mr. ilogers looked hard at the word over his spectacles and did not seem wtb think favorably of tlw change. "I ieltyer what," sld-he, finally, Vl've got a way, and no spell In' Wbout It What's spellln' as long as folks catch yer Idee ?- The (dee's what yef can't get along without." J With which Mf. Bogera took his fist to the ob jectionable to" and wrote triumphantly In its place a huge figure 2. I felt baffled and helpless, ancTwent home with a vague sense that I bad left Mr. Rogers' sign , much worse than I found IL It still pursued me, howeverand at dinner I said, suddenly : . "MaqaTms, don't you want my shoes as good as new ana better too V "Blest me !" said my grandmother, "what ails 7"the child T She Isn't beginning so early to be a tessT" Oh, not" cried my father. "I guess you've n reading old John Rogers' sign. Wife, it Is a curiosity. You must go by there. We must send mm down some oiq shoes. You know he broke his leg last Winter, and he's trying to work again. We must give him a lift." Ho It was that next morning I found myself again before the distracting signlhU Ume wl tha "bundle of old shoes In my arms. I liftedthe latch and stepped Into the little shop. "I declare fort, If here ain't rush o' business," said Mr. Rogers, as he opened my bundle. " One pair o copper-toes. Them your little brother's ? Congress, with the 'larstioglve out. Guess that's yer grandmother's. And here's some o' yer pa's boots, with a nice, handsome hole in 't." "And I'd like ta buy some shoe-strings, too," I put In, feeling myself a patron of some Import ance. ' "Now, them copper-toes wouldn't take more'n -half aiv hour Can't you sit dowttndwaltT"t ain't such a great talker, but I like somebody to speak to once In a whiles - There's the cat. I talk to her. She'll look Very knowing, but the minute my back is turned she's, fast asleep. That ain't flatterin', yer see, and I stop." I sat down, and while I listened used my eyes as well. The sunlight fought Its, way through the dusty window-frames and diffused itself Impar tially Over the walls and over the floorrwlth Its wide, dirt-filled cracks. The decoration of these walls was of a humble order, though by no means "uninteresting.' In the first place, there were huge auction bl I Is, I n .every , tagctpfyeHo news and L ain. My grandmother kept an obituary scrap book : but, as I afterward found out, It was Mr. Roarers' practice to cherish the auction bills of his departed friends. Amos Velden had peacefully slept with his fathers for thirteen years or more, but In J. Rogers.' shop It was stilt proclaimed, In giant type, that he wished to sell ten milch cows and six healthy yearlings. .1 Nor was this aU. - Ten years before a misguided showman had to come to our little town, and had mournfully retreated the next day, with more ex perience than profits ; but his advent still lived In the handbills on Mr. Rogers' walls. Behind the old man, as he patiently bent over his work, an interesting family of lions were sporting, while on the door were set forth. In vivid pictures, the accomplishments, of "The Fairy of the Ring," a young woman In very scanty petticoats. The celling, too; bad Its snare of decoration. From It hung, among festoons of cobwebs, a broken bird-cage: a battered Chinese lantern, whose light had long ago gone out; odd boots, which had parted with their mates ; baskets with ' no bottoms, and numberless straps, chains and bits of rope, that had long outlived their useful ness. '-. -- ' l But Mr, Rogers' work-bench baffles all enumer--- atlon. It was covered with a deposit of frdra six - to ten Inches In depth,, from whose lower stratum Mr. Ilogers would, from time to time, bring up an awl or a bit of wax. It was the old cobbler him. self on whom my eyes at last rested. In his most upright days he could not have been a large man, "but now the years had settled heavily upon him. and he had lost several Inches of his youthful hlght. His face was; framed with a thin white fringe of beard, while cheek and ehln were rough with a granite-colored stubble. There were fine, netted wrinkles, but no deep furrows, In the old man's face, and on each cheek a wintry bloom still lingered. - His voice had the roughness of a nutmeg-grater, but now and then glanced off iron) Its usual key and ended In a chirp. - U ' "You never come to see me before, did you? I'm the J. Rogers out there on the sign. .You've heard o John Rogers that was burnt at the stake ? Well, I'm another John Roirers ; not that one. I warn't never quite so bad off as that. Bo you like my shopr-eh i rvgoteverythlngliandyL yer I haven't always oeen so wen on as mn,- -he went onHn tremulotie-ehlrpr Whenr-my wife was alive now, my wife was a fine woman, harnsome and orettv hhrh-steppln'. when I mer- ried her, but trouble brang ber down. Hhe never took kindly to It. Her folks called me shif 'less. I dunno.. If sh If 'less means work In' hard and fettln' little, I s'pose I was. X warn't one o' the Ind ter worry, and she was. Eight children there were, ana every one that come she was sorry it come ; and then, when one after another they died, all but one, that was what killed her at last. Theywas my children," too,-And well, i i There's more trouble In this world than I'm able to account for. I'm free ter admit. My wife, she took ter her bed two years before she died ; and . aft a a . a W m ft .a men i nad ter learn a new trade or two besides shoe-making. I was hired gal and most every thing else. I made a pretty bad mess of It. 1 don't deny It. Poor Jim (h's our boy) run . oft He couldn't tan' It. Hhe died after awhile. She was one o the Budsons. A harnsome set o' gals they were. It was a heavy day for me wbejn I burled her. In the grave. I've been alone, jAce, out I've naa a great many mercies." "I thought you broke your leg last Winter, Mr. iiogers," i saia. . "Ho I did : but I dunno but. on the whole. ruther enjoyed It. I dunno when T "ever lived so hi eh or had so manv visits from mv friends." -And o Mr, Ilogers talked on, looking sharp) up at me now ana then, to assure himseir that wmm m wwr listener wish ine cat. .Two days after I went for the rest of the shoes, and Mr. Ilogers seemed so glad to see me that I was again" flattered Into staying. "Come, now, if you'll set down and stay awhile. I'll tell yer a story. Perhsps you'd like ter know bow I come by them lions T Waif I'll tell yer now 'twas." With -a chlld's-greed of stories, I was only too eager lo.usien. "I told him hls.show'd rtnd it pretty poor pick In's In this town," said Mr. Rogers, In conclusion. "I'd done Its cobblin'Tor twenty years and more ; but he wann't for listen In' to me, and so they went off, he and his menagerie all a-erowlln' together." Homehow, it appeared that, after all, Ms. Rogers was the hero of tills story; and again it seemed that Mr. Rogers had played a prominent part in the decline and fall of Amos Belden's fortunes ; and again, that Jonathan Wilder would have done much better to listen to Mr. Rogers' advice, and thus 'have averted ruin and consequent auction bliIsr1rv'asTrvery artless egotlohi, not hard to account for. For years theold-man-had-llved alone, his own chief coiinelor and friend. I do not wonder that he grew a little larger to his own eyes than to other men's; that his imagination, having nothing else to do, built up the past till his memory herd fiction a dear as fact.- I am quite ready to forgive him his retrospective castle building, though! was its credulous victim. Then there were marvelous tales of,my.Json Jim's" adventures in that far-off wonderland,., "Out West." I believe three scanty letters furnished these romances their foundation of fact ;-but I asked no questions and believed with as honest a faith In the gold-paved streets of Han Francisco as In t hrwut of tiiA Xhw JprusAlom. , -"1 ieasaoixlJoylm-wag,'' the-old-man- would say. "1 never thought ham o' him for goln' off. Kf he only conies back to bury me. that's all I ask. He'll be comin' back one o' these days, rich and harnsome. I hain't a doubt, I shouldn't wonder If he'd be look In' round for a wife. Let's see. How old areyoffT'T shouldn't wonder If youwas Just about right for him by that time. YOu'd make a pretty little pair." Though Time had stood as still with Jim as his father seemed to think, the idea of my marrying him would have lost none of Its uncomfortable grotesqueness. - i'lJon iairrlSogers," I salu. look roguish. "Don't you be for not get'tin' nier rled, thoughrllke the Miss Bucklands, and the Jewbury girls, and the Itassett girls, and all the rest. There's too many -on 'em. i uscu to ten my wife that I was better!! nothln', anyway. It's know what a good little gal she Is to come and see me." - "I like to come." I said . My father seemed In no hurry to go, and said, at length: 1 . w ' "Rather lonely here by yourself, Isn't.It, Mr. JMgersr', . .- r. , ..-. . u "Well. I dunno's I've much to complain tof. Mrs. Blmons, un-stain, looks after things, and I tell her to spend the money In the little biacx tea pot. .There's other folks worse, pn." Mv father looked puzzled. - "IdecUre. Mr. Roirers. you've-known what trouble was, haven't yotf If 15ee I how-many years was your wife laid up? AjJd you've lost about all your children, and-newf here you' are yourself." ' K "Yes, yes," safd the old man ; "but these ain't the sort v things I try to let my mina a wen on while I'm a-lyin' here. I try to count up my mercies." : , ", -i. .. . Mv father looked desnerate. - "Well. now. Mn Rorers. I think and my wife thinks that vou ouirht to eo somewhere else." "I ain't got anywhere to go, sir. ' I'm all alone In the world. It's true what vou say." , - "But. Mr. Roarers, to be plain, vou know I'm one of the selectmen, and I'd see that the town took good care of you better care than idrs. fei- monsaoes." "I dunno's I quite catch your, meaning.. sir, Does anybody find fault with Mrs. Simons ?'' "No.no. I don't mean that. I mean we think you'd better go down to Mr. Miles' to spend the Winter. He keets tiie town farm, you know." i warn't kind o' shabby in the men to go off and leave the women to uie orr here up-country ail aione. I ain't afraid but Jlm'll find somebody easynougtr." "Oh ! yes," I said : for I was afraid I had hurt the old man's feelings. "I'm sure he must be verynee."- One accomplishment of Mr.-lloieJa, T shallliftthe.pixuh.ouaeJl 7 . . ' . , . I. ItT. b a a. . U . pever rorget. lie poi oniy toia me stones as ne worked, but he proressed to be able to read mem from his hands, which he held before him like the open passages of a book. Maa t Vnu an rdwr r 'am " nm waii m iiv 'em." "There's nothln' hid In 'em. 'No clieatln' about It. Hard and tough.-- Don't look much like a book, do they ? But Just hear me read to you out ,, i, . I was completely mystified, especially when the reader stooped to spell out a word, and when hel held his hanl hands up to the light and com plained that It was rather fine print for such old eves but still the story wsnt on without a breaks ana in spite or myseir I was orougnt to tne oeuer that Mr. Rogers possessed some supernatural read ing powers, perhaps akin to the mystery of my parsing lesson, which told of "sermons In stones and books In the running brooks." The Bummer and Fall went by, and the Winter came, with sleigh-bells, ttanta uiaus, and rroiics without number ; but alas 1 to the poor and old it brought only a chill that crept Into their bones and took tip its abode there. Poor old 'John Rog ers 1 I lifted his latch sne day, but the awl lay Idle on the bench. It was only the rheumatism that had taken a mean advantage of the infirm knee but week after week he lay on his bed, ami the dust gathered thicker In the little shop. The neighbors were kind, but -the best people find a sameness In the constant repetition of good deeds, and by degrees It grew plain that the old man's friends would feel a sense of relief If he got well.' It was about this Urns that my grandmother de clared, with a sigh, that she had great respect for Mr. Rogers. "lie's home up under amiction like a true Christian : but rather shiftless rather shiftless. I don't know how to reconcile his virtues with the dirt and disorder he lives in. I don't wonder his wife took to her bed." "They say she was a perfect shrew," said my mother, placidly threading her needle. "Half craty eoi've heard. Mr. Appietpn thinks there's no use in Air. ilogers' trying to stay oy nimseir this Winter. He'd much better go to the poor house and be taken good care of. Mrs. 8imons, the woman over his shop, says he's hardly a cent left, and she can't be expected to provide for him. I suppose the thought of It will be rather hard for him at first r out he'll btftnucn oeuer orr. Lucy. dear, won't you hand me my scissors ?" I rave my mother her scissors, out felt that by the act I became a conspirator In this plot for the final degradation or my poor old mend. 1 sat by his bed next day, when who should appear' at the door but my father. I felt that the plot was thick ening. '-r-J "Well, how areyou, Mr. Rogers T said, my father, In hlshearty voice. 'Feeling pretty smart to-day T" -"Yes, I'm pretty smart, thank ye. ' I hain't got nrtrrr - - - 1 "-ftiiifi mi iltll "You mean to the poor-house, sir verv bright ter see '! 1 The old man turned his faded eyes Imploringly up to my father's face. . "Well, yes; that's what they call It, though J must say i never quue UKeauie uame." : The oldcbbbler's face seemed to grow white and aged before our very eyes. The tears rolled slowly down his cheeks. -With, the instinct to decently hide his trouble, he drew up the old bed-quilt with aTremulourhahd and turned his face to the wall. "I dunno but I've asked too much," be said In a broken voice. "I've sort o'Jjung outo the idee that I should die before I oome ter that ' If the Lord 'ud only give me somethin' I could die of !" "Lucy," said my father, "didn't I hear some body In the shop? Go and see." . Two strangers had just entered the door a tall young man,, dressed In a suit of lively plaid, and accompanied by a pleasant-faced young woman, In a white bonnet. " ' V "Mr. Rocers is slck.".! said. "He can't mend auoeanow "Sick, did you say he was ? Where Is he ?" "He's in there. I don't believe he wants any boily to eome In." - The young aian gave me a queer look. ."I guess you don't know who I am. I guess he'll be willing to see me." " - ;- By this time he stood In the door between ,the two rooms. Mr. Rogers' face was turned away, and my father was looking Intently Into the back yard. The stranger glanced uneasily about and said 'not a word. I am sure it must have been a relief to him, as well as to me, when, at last, my fat her turned suddenl r juund anisaidi rWhy, who's this r "It's somebody come to see Mr. Roirers." I answered, faintly. o . -iij)on't-you-know me? DonH-yon-know mt. iamer7" the stranger burst out. "it's. me. 1 Jim come back.. And out theres my wife." -. I laugh now-to think of the absurd sense It's of relief this last revelation caused me. -J'Jfmmy ? ('pme hme Tthe old man mur mured, In a dazed, scared way. "I ain't out o my head. I'm awake. I know what, you're goln'rloitrf-ine.--Yoq,re"golng"t "Take you. to the poor-house, father? What are you 'talking about? You're going to my uousei : iou're going to live in -style, 1 tell vou r . . . . . . . ' . - , no poor-qoue aoout mat. Ain't you glad to see me? Hay, Maine, come in here aud see my- poor old dad 1 There was a moment's silenee. Rlowlv. vrv slowly the old man understood; slowly he raised nimseii in oed, and, holding up his trembling hand, said, solemnly : MOoi moves In a myitrtoa way INFANT OUTLAWS, CHILDREN INCAKCERATED IX THK'SAN FRAN. CISCO INOI'STRIAL SCHOOL AND FOROOT TEN INORDINATE 8ENTKNCE8. A. lady who lately visited the San Francisco In dustrial School :has written up for the Chronicle some scenes and Incidents that came under her observation. Hhe finds a. larire proportion of the boys under restraint to be shrewd and hardened criminals, reared In the vilest surroundings, and possessing criminal instincts iasa heritage from degraded parents, and every boy who enters the school Is Inevitably subjected to the most' corrupt ing and contaminating influences. Add to this the fact that, except In rare Instances, commit ment to the school means to remain there until a boy's twenty-first year Is completed, and some eon reptioh may be formed of the effect; while It is a maiier 01 nine wonuer mat a large proportion of those discharged after servlnar a six months' term promptly put into execution the results of the su-H perior knowledge acquired during the period of their Incarceration, and are verv sure to return speedily within. Its precincts on more serious charges than the first.- In the latter class It Is safe to Include TTnr Wolf, who, In October, 1873, was eight years old. with a boyish mania for lixhtlnsr matches, snd who, when a neighboring out-house was discovered to be In flames, was hauled un to the PnllM rvmrt and chanred with the crime of arson. and aentenoed to-the Industrial School until he was or age. lie remainetl a year and was then re turned to his parents There Is nothlntr tn ln.li. cate that Henry was otherwise than a good little uoy nunng ine next twelve months, but at the ex- Clration of that time a straw stack In the neigh or hood was discovered on fire, his boy comrades accused him of lighting It, and strenuously assert-, lng his Innocence, the child was carried off again to remain four years, during which time he made his escape once, but was speedily recaptured.- At the ex nl ration of that tl me he wrmm mnlul an Indefinite leave of absence, but. the effect of five mlplstered, might have redeemed In the first in stance, Is now regarded as one of the most hard, ened cases jnthe ohool.ii ? 1 George Henry Williams, a little mulatto boy, -was committed to the Institution In April, lsno, charged by his aunt with misdemeanor In running, away from home. He was consigned to the school V for thirteen years. When the child took his In troductory bath at the Institution, the officers Were" shocked to-flud bis body a mass of the most cfniel" bruises. The child has been well-behaved and -tractable' during his stay In the school, and Is al ways horror-stricken if anything Is said about sending him back to his aunt, ... ' - John Healey,' a good-looking lad of eight years, Erlor to his arrest for housebreaking,-lived with is parents at No4 Jessie street. The child rea lizes that he has. done wrong, but has been too familiar with crime to feel any great contrition.,. An interview drew forth some striking revelation in the life. of this youthful Arab. '."Did you ever go to school?",. ' "No, ma'am." i - "Don't you know your letters?" --fr The boy shook his bead, shamefacedly. A "What does your father do ?" "Gets drunk all the time and beats mother." . , "HoT does he make a living?" "He works on boats and my mother washes." "What does your mother do when your father " ttoAtft liar t TLuia hft nrlil inn liwii!v'mt-'-o'ti-)wi "Oh, no, ma'am ; she takes the little baby and r.itis over to Miss Flnnigan's." , "What do you do r " "I go and get the pleecemah to 'rest him. I've got him 'rested four times." ' ' , This lad's accessory In crime, Richard Bowles, ' a boyof nine, w-as perceived at once to be of a very different type from the former. X slight boy, with light-brown hair and gentle eyes, he came in and stood timidly at the visitor's side, evidently , . braced up for a painful ordeal, and answering afl j the questions in a clear, manly voice. ' "What are you here for, Richard?" "For stealing some brass. John Healey told mv to come with him and get some brass to sell. I asked him 'Was he a-going to steal jt V and heald .' 4no.' He took "me to an alley, near Market and Fremont, and I didn't know we had no right to take It until I was arrested." "Where do your parents live, and what do thev do ?" . "We live. at No. '61 Jessie- street My father, v used to te foreman In the Union Foundry, hut he's dead." -My mother takes in wsshlnir." "Have you any brothers or sisters ?" .'r "Just one little sister fa srulnl. Mv i.ntiw.r i i)tgtyahdTv6rk7Tu Hie boiler foundry." is your mo i no r gooi to you . , , "Oh, yes ma'am, always. I went to the Tehama- street school." ; ' T "Did she want you sent here ? '' - Thejchlld's lip quivered painfully,' and he aus-V wered brpkenly ; v . '' "No. ma'am. Hhe iHdul want me sent.awav '"": from her at all ; she felt awfully. She never " wanted me to talk bad. or anything." ' I- Tiie Uiy's- teet If-were-f I mi ly-set-toget herrw the long-repressed tears floMlel his cheeks, while lils-wkole frame shook with stifled sobs. ' uiHrIntemlent IcfAraghltnTwhoIiad heanl the hlstorj' or the case and closely. observed the boy -for the first time, gave assurance, that he would warmly second any application for the : ease. - Ve f eomet j4!fcloioefc Jtanra lac JHm'itmJenffm nOPH Journ S'Mtesatty fnseiwiytrr mere, yer see , out my.wue, sne waau rigui. ra- i wj- uu v-viu wwrrewk -1 m-wrrT i lannrnz cnaracxer, ana inrta snoTtntnoa eiapsT . x -.- i,. -,mr mlnH. It's m w kl i..f mttmr nut t muhlea I vnil hail the I riSllTit Olviml f SfRcl1 'urn for nnthln'. I KofriM ii m .t... I. . i . I . come. . I dunno 's anybody was to blame for 'em. 1 1 can send 'era by your little gal. I dunno's you I child, whom a sound spauklng. Judiciously ad- I IOiils Farraro. a soniiv hnf nlisttns(t.f(ariiroil little Italian, seven years old, brought up on a (tllaPtrfs f t - ftfitta luhMtltV - t a I a f &m I with iMwIaav r iv 9 via -jr--ft nun iiAixrn s.. pride, that he had Imcii arrested six times prevlou w rmenioer oin, wiucii.seaiei nis laie. ftftfta . .... ... wmie runups, commonly called by the boys "Sunshine." because of his nernetimllv annnv temper and "sunny shlejwaspiaedlln stitutTflrrnnsTB; when years ofjwpeJby his aunt. mrs. iiaruion, me. uoy ueiug accused of .no crime or offense. There be has remained for five years, the associate of luvenlle criminals, but seemingly uncoBiaminaieu uy ins piaymaies. wnen asked If he WnuLt HIta tn m U.' m r ha an.irii.wl tk'if A would like, to go into the country somewhere and uv treruiug ins way in me worm. Straight as an arrow, lithe and graceful, with hoble face, Ink-black hair and bright dark eyes, a', little Modoo Indian Is riresentjuT tn view. Tli. chlld was adoptHt.by a soldier named William nturpuy, auu ai tne iime or me isiiers aeain, in 1877, the boy, eight years old, was placed In the IodustrlaL School-for protection, by Mayor Bryant, and has remained there ever since, for gotten save by those in whose charge he was placed. He Is reputed to be honest, polite and exceedingly bright, though a very quiet child. He, too, would like to go away somewhere and labor in an honorable occupation. . rrancis aianoney, a bunchy little fellow with a freckled, Intelligent face, eleven years old, is sentenced for 10 years for battery on a policeman. - Such instances as the foregoing may be multi plied. It is evident that the law should be more Intelligent and discreet in Its operation, and there is irreat need nt intn rtrrll na rwa ft nmvlalnn hir which the boys taken from bad homes, who give iione oi teauing goou lives ir removed from their bad associations, could be bound out into "goo(r homes. In the roiintrv ntxl irln .nAfliimum.nt and opportunity for reform, Instead of being sent , w me inuusmai sciiooi, wnere ail the influences are of the opposite tendency. Tlf E ANOKI.OP DdTir ieiYT Wivrcn Tn imnnta who In rash moments wish themselves dead, comes this Parable, to Show them If ! kan at KAi mnl they would sopn retract and plead for life; "A certain feeble old man had gathered a load of sticks, and was carrying It home, lie became very tired on the road. and flinging down his bur- . den, be cried out : 0 Angel of Death, deliver me iruui mis misery y At that Instant the Angel of Death. In nhe.linn in tila ftiimmnn. Ka. ' fore him. and asked him what he wanted. On see- ing me ingnuui nguretbe old man, trembling, re- plied K friend, Inrpleased to assist me, that I HUT lift aiim mnM Kla kn . i .. I l . - " uaiucu uuuu iur auvuiuri . iocibia purpose only have I called voii irw Cham- sStsV ..sMy , Ladies looking for sons-in-law rmrelv matte Ihelr approaches so openly as the Canadian dame , who wroie to a newiv-settled ellirlhle; "IWr Mr. I. Mrs. V itrtoii. lh nn nM oat I nn my daughter Amelia : she li very amusing, and a regular young flirt. She can sing like a humming bird, and her papa can, play on the fiddle nicely and we might have a ,rare' old bo-down, and then we will have an oyster supper. Amelia Is highly educated : she can dance like a muh Inir for frrilhft. Ailil h nnn tnsilrsa Ke...iLl tsavl . . .uuJwr Ju.mK, 1 P? J"Je can.Xhe.heaL -In: sue is anead of all the F girls, and will make a good wife for any man. Yours traly, Mrs. Wig ton. Brinz your brother." - ' . .- v- ' ...-..-..4 . -..'. i T r-'- r-- :