■ft
JE TELEPHONE
THE TELEPHONE.
líEMOCUATIC.
RATES OF ADVERTISING.
MEMINNVILLE, OREGON, NOVEMBER 18. 1887
One square or less, one insertion............... $1 00
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Other legal advertisements 75 cents for first
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Special business notices In business columns.
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PUBLISHED
FRIDAY
EBY
MORNING.
PUBLICATION OFFICE:
Door North of eor er Third and K Eu ,
MiM’NNVIL’F. OR.
SUBSCRIPTION RATES;
(IN ADVANCE.*)
•ar
tenths • •
I months
$2 00
I 00
50
VOL. II
STOVES!
6ONNET.
S. A. MANNING
C-A-H-Edi-ilS THE FITTEST LI1TE OF
"OVES I11 ^le county, the new acorn .
ese stoves, without doubt, are the best
e manufactured. One of these stoves will
given to the new cash subscriber to the
LEPHONE who guesses nearest its weight.
R nn Stove iriven away.
lUiUU
COME AND SUBSCRIBE $1,50 A YEAR.
Schofield & Morgan,
87 Washington St.,
Portland, Oregon.
all and Ceiling Papers
Of all Grades and the Latest Eastern Styles------
8AMPLE9 .'tÆJVIT.ETi OJST APPLICATION:
3NS0RIAL PARLOR,
ying, Hair Cutting and- - - -
- - - - Shampoing Parlors.
C. H. FLEMING, Prop.
11 kinds of fancy hair cutting done in
latest and neatest style
11 kinds of fancy hair dressing and hair
ig. a specialty Special attention given
Ladies' and Childrens' Work
also have for sale a very flue assort-
t of hair oils, hair tonics, cosmetics, etc
t I have in connection with my parlor,
• the largest and finest stock of
CIGARS
• E v A in the city.
fitiRD S treet M c M innvillx , O bimon
J. SMITH,
Tall Oaks From Little Acorns
Grow.
With brains and skill and patient will.
Winch shows them great painstakers!
The Wagon that has pleased the world.
Was made by S tudebakers
The Country grew with rapid strides;
The West with teeming acres.
Was in a quandry what to do!
Till relieved by S tudebakers .
So, with Iron and Wood and labor good,
Though they have many Imitators;
If you want the Wagon that’s best on earth !
Just buy of S tudebakers .
The’moral is plain, which you may know*
And if you look, you may see also,
That the largest daks from Acorns grow;
The same as the S tudebakers .
New Blacksmith Shop!
AMITY, OREGON.
8AM LIKENS, Proprietor.
Blacksmithing and carriage ironing of
every description.
---- AGENT FOR-----
RANK BRO'S. Implement Co.
Horse Shoeing
AT
And plow work a specialty.
ITH’S Machine Works
Also manufacture the
be found a complete stock of £flT"Celebrated Oregon Iron Harrow,
H ford plows, including the Carbon-
GIVE ME A CALL.
60tf
g
.QI aa I nlruv
<inrl SMITH
.Q M IT M ’ ' S Traitant
■ Steel
plow, and
Patent
Hiking Gang. These plows are some-
jpg new and useful and it costs
M c M innville
gibing to try them. Also the new HA-
ANA Press Drill, call and look before
lying elsewhere. I am also prepared
>furnish eastings and steam fixtures
lahort notice.
sep23tf
Cor Third and D streets, McMinnville
ill
LOGAS BROS., & HENDERSOY,
THE OLD RELIABLE
Proprietors.
LLOWAY & GOUCHER, Props.
warehouse has been thoroughly reno
ted and overhauled, and new accom
modations added.
lest Cash Prices Paid for Grain.
Iroct Shipment« to San Francisco.
1. but standard Calcutta Sacks kept
tud let on the moat reasonable term«.
Honest Weight. Fair Dealing.
TORAGE 3 CEZCTTS.
WM. HOLL,
Proprietor of the
II
mile talrç ta,
The leading
1WELRY
ESTABLISHMENT,
—OF-
The Best Rigs in the City. Orders
Promptly attended to Day or
light.
CITY STABLES,
Third Street, between E and F
McMinnville, Oregon.
Henderson Bros. Props.
First-class accommodations for Commer
cial men and general travel.
Transient stock well cared for.
Everything new and in Firet-Claes Order
Patronage respectfully solicited
ltf
Mrs. II. P. Stuart,
THE LEADER IN----
Third Street. McMinnvi'.'e Or.
“WHEN”
You want any thing in the line of
ob Printing
MILLINERY,
Hair wealing ami Stamping.
Opposite Orange Store McMinnville. Or.
Call at the office of the WE«T
We
SIDE TELEPHONE
will guarantee you
IT WORK, LOWEST PRICES.
Wa make a specialty ot Fine
ik and Card Printing.
Flour and Feed
—Goods sold at—
The Lowest Cash Price
—And—
S, A. YOUNG, M. D.
Phyaioiaa 4 Surgeon.
IwirriiLC,
—Dealer in all kinds of—
Delivered F ree !
G reson I To all persons residing witliin city limits.
lc. and residence on D street. Ail
promptly ausw.red day or night
Lyle AVrit<ht
Dealer in
v. PRICE,
PHOTOGRAPHER.
Stain in Hass’ Bailding.
Harness. Saddles. Etc. Etc.
Repairing neatly dona al reasonable
tstiss
Wright’• d « w building
Coraer Third
and F siTMgt, MeMkanrlBte. dr.
Love make« the solid grossness musical;
All luelteu in the marvel of its breaths.
Life’s level facts attain a lyric swell,
And liquid births leap up from rocky deaths,
WiLchiug the world with wonder. Thus, today,
Watching the crowding peep e in the street,
I thought the ebbing anti the flowing feet
Moved to u delicate sense of rhythm uiwuy;
And that I heard the yearning faces say,
“Soul, sing me this new song!’’ The autumu
leaves
Throbbed subtly to me an immortal tune;
And when a warm shower wet the roof8at noon,
Soft melodies slid down on mo from the eaves,
Dying delicious in a mystic swoon.
—Richard Realf.
A NOBLE VICTORY.
The waves break on the shore of the North
sea. A sharp wind from tho north sweep«
over its surface, driving the waves high be
fore it. On their crests rises und sinks the
white foam. How the water surges forward,
if it would rnsh far into the land. But
again and ap/Jn it retreats from the white
sand, only to return iu haste the next morn
ing.
On the shore lies stretched out thefvillage of
Husom. Every little house stands by itself,
often separated from its neighbor by a wide
space of perhaps fifty feet, which is generally
made into a garden, in which a few feeble
plants draw a scanty nourishment from the
ground. With no less difficulty do the inhab
itants of Husom manage to get their living.
They are all fishermen, und the sea is their
real home, on which they go out for miles to
cast their nets. When the sun shines on a
smooth surface it is uu exhilarating occupa
tion, but when a sudden storm springs up
while the boats are far from land and a fog
settles down upon the water liko a broad,
heavy mantle, then one understands how hard
are the conditions and the perpetual danger
attending the labor by which these men earn
their bread.
The sea runs high and most of the boats
have pulled in to land. Two men are still
working to save their property in the same
way. They are both young, large, vigorous
men, with sun burned faces and toil hardened
hands.
At last their boats too rest on the shore
firmly secured. “Lars,” said one of the men,
straightening np and buttoning his short
jacket, “this will be a fierce blow to-night.”
The other nodded: “It is lucky tbut none
of us are out.”
Meanwhile they have started homeward,
and stride along together in silence. The
only street of the village is quiet. It is dark,
here and there a faint light gleaming from a
little window.
They are passing a small house, and, almost
as if by a secret agreement, they approach
and glance through the lighted window to
the inside. An old man with white hair aud
beard sits in a large arm chair; his head has
fallen forward on his breast—a pict ure of the
life fast sinking to rest. At the table, on the
opposite side, sits, in bright contrast, a young
girl, sowing—a fresh, lovely face, with round,
rosy cheeks and luxuriant, fair hair. Kato
Mason is the prettiest girl in the village, and
the most industrious, on whom many a young
fellow looks with earnest glance. Early and
late she is busy, supporting herself und hep
aged father by her own hands.
The loiterers at the window have turned
and gone on their way. At last Lars said:
“Good night, Christoph,” and crossed the
street to bis home. He had heard the reply
to his greeting, and now waited and listened,
standing by the fence that inclosed his little
tract of ground. Christoph had not gone on,
but bad turned back—for what? Lars felt a
misgiving. He, too, hastened back. The
wind drives full in his face, but he does not
heed. Now he bears Christoph’s steps before
him, but cannot see, for it is very dark.
There stands the little bouse where Katie
Mason lives. Christoph stands by the win
dow. Lars sees him plainly in the light of
tho lamp that falls full upon him. lie hears
a tap on tho window, and now Christoph has
bls hand on tho door, and it opens before
him.
“Thou, Christoph? What brings thee so
late?” asked Katie, holding on to tho door,
which tho storm was shaking.
“I was passing und suw thee sitting, so I
stopped to bid thee ‘sleep well.’”
“Thou dear!” sho said, putting out her
hand.
The wind seized the door thus set free, and
flung it wide open against tho wall. But
Christoph, using all his strength, drew
the girl into the ball und closed tho door.
Lars grew hot under his coarse jacket; hot in
spite of the blustering wind. He stepped close
to the door and heard speaking within, but
could not distinguish anything. He waited,
bis heart filled with the pangs of jealousy.
How long ho stood he knew not; it seemed an
eternity to him. At last the door opened and
Christoph stepped out. “Sleep well, dear girl,”
ho whispered. „“Goodby, dear Christoph.”
Tho key was turned in the lock. Christoph
went home, tho joy of love requited in his
heart. The other, too, turned homeward,
but a long time parsed before he reached the
little house.
They had grown up together-—Lars, Chris
toph and Katie. The three bad played to
gether continually as children, and Katie
would 1)® carried by no others or drawn on
the sled by none but Lars or Christoph.
When they grew larger they went to school
together and were confirmed together in the
lit lo church of the neighboring village. No
strife bad ever come between them, never
bad tho girl shown whether she bad pre
ferred one of the luds to the other. As these
developed into strong men, Kat io bloomed
intJ still greater boauty, ns was apparent
to other young men of tho village, and
Rob Steffel ventured to intimate as much, in
a rough fashion, to the girl. Tho following
day his place in the boat was empty; he wag
sick, his father said—the truth was, Rob
would not show his discolored face. From
that time the young fellows held themselves
aloof from Katie Mason. But iWt veen Lars
and Christoph the old intimacy began grad
ually to diminish. They went with Katie to
her first dance. Who should be her first
partner? They disputed long over it out of
the girl’s hearing, and at last, with heated
faces, appealed to her to clioore between
them. Katie looked at them, and for tho
first time felt a misgiving that if the chose
on® the other would l>e deeply hurt. R*> she
said: “It. make* no difference to me which I
dance with first, but if it is of so much ac
count to you draw cuts.” They did so, and
Christoph was the lucky one. While they
were settling the matter Katie looked on with
apparent indifference, but her heart beat fast
under hfir txxlice, and when it was decided
sb® almost unconsciously smiled with evident
pleasure. Lars saw it, and from that day
jealousy began to take root deeper and deeper
in his heart, and there was no lack of occa
sion to develop it. Margrit Hermenseu,
Katie** best friend, went to th® altar to plight
lier faith. Katie was chosen to cany the
wreath, accotnpani *d by Christoph. When
Lars beard of it lie opposed it vehemently.
Both young men grew violent, and onlv
Katie’s prewen -e of mind iu declaring she did
not wish to go to the wedding prevented per
baps the very worst outbreak of Lar/ pa-
sionate storm of anger. After that the two
avoided «acb other as miK*b as possible, but
•ought to be with Katie. Ea*-b knew that th<-
çtDu teTed ths girl, aud beta felt secret;;
conscious to whom Katie’s heart inclined.
Cnristopb, the calmer und more self possessed,
felt a silent, blissful happiness taking posses
sion of his heart when the girl l<x>ked at liimj
with her blue eyes so sweetly and kindly.'
Lars, more vehement, believed at times that4
Kutio loved him, her manner was always so
cordial. But, again, wbeu he saw her with
ChrLtoph, a voice within told him that he was
not the favored one, and ho suffered bitter
torment. So it bud gone on till th® evening
when the young fishermen returned together
from the shore. Christoph’s heart beat last at
the quiet, peaceful scene in old Mason’s cot
tage, and it drew him back with irresistible
power to leave a greeting for the beloved one
But after he bail entered the hall, in bis effort
to close the door, so violently flung open by
th® storm, he suddenly became conscious of
Katie in his arms. And while it raged and
stormed without bo kissed her, and in wild
happiness he whispered: “Katie, do you love
me?” She did not answer, but her lips pressed
his.
Thenext morning Lars stood on the shore
mending liis boat, when Rob Steffel came by.
“You are early, though you came home
late. Were you with your sweetheart?”
Lars looked at him, red with anger. He
struck the wo<xl with his ax, and the chips
flew far around.
“Hobo!” continued the other, “you did not
have good luck, it seems.”
“Keep still!” cried Lara. “What is it to
you whether I have good luck or not?”
ltol) Steffel stepped nearer. “You are un
just to me,” he said. “A big fellow lite you
should not take it so meekly. Christoph has
plainly taken the fish away from you.”
Lars made no answer, but his hand clasped
the ax convulsively. “You and I have no
love for Christoph,” continued Rob; “let us
join together against him,” and he held out
his hand.
“I want nothing to do with you,” replied
Lars, and t lrned away, resuming bis work.
Rob Steffel laughed scornfully, and went
away, but the sting that his words contained
remained in Lars’ breast. When the other
was out of sight he flung down his ax, and
went back to the village. Slowly, with down
cast head, he walked. Before the house of
old Mason be paused, then with a sudden
resolution ho entered. But, as if bound, he
stood in the doorway—in the room stood
Katie tenderly embraced by Christoph. A
painful silence prevailed for a moment, then
Christoph stepped toward Lars, put out his
hand, and said: “Katie is my betrothed
since last evening. 1 intended to come di
rectly to you and tell you.”
He did not answer, only a bitter smile quiv
ered on bis lips. It was excessively painful
to the girl. She felt what a blow she had
given him, though blameless herself. She
longed to say something to him, but could
not find the right tvord. So she only looked
at him, and without speaking held out her
hand to him, but. he turned away and left the
house.
Toward noon tile shore was alive with men.
The seu gleamed in the sunshine again, th®
waves played gently, and u soft wind was
blowing. The day was favorable for a large
haul. All the fishermen of the village were
gathered together, the nets and oars were
put into the boats, the sails spread wide, and
the litt'e fleet sailed far out into the broad,
beautiful sea. Katie stood on the shore,
sending greetings to her sweetheart as long as
bis boat was iu sight. Then she went home,
smiling happily to herself. She had ninch to
do. After she had seen to her old
father, who sat quietly in his chair and
smoked a short pipe, she went about her work.
How it flew under her hands today, though
frequently she stopped, gazing down
lost in uweet dreams. Then she worked so
much the faster again. So hour after hour
flew by unheeded. At last tho day’s task was
ended and Katie went to the door. But the
weather had changed, tho sun had» disap
peared b'diind thick clouds and the sky hung
in gray folds over the sea. The fishermen
also bad finished their work. The rich booty
lay in tho boats, promising a fine reward for
their bard labor. But in tho east it wus black
and threatening. They must reach horn® l»e
fore the storm camo on. The little sails
spread out, the ships flew over the water,
causing the foam to break over the deep drip
ping sides. Then came tho first blow .strong
against the sails; the load<l boats threatened
to upset. Tho men were forced to take in
sails and trust wholly to tho oars. It grew
dark, and tho sea lifted itself restlessly into
huge, far rolling waves. Then tho storm
broke loose with wild force; it howled and
lashed tho sea till it reared in short, foam
capped waves. Tho men rovvad with all their
might; tlio shore could not be far away,
though it was not visible in the darkness.
Ahead ot all the others shot Christoph’s boat;
close behind him was Lara’. It seemed as if
the two were running a race for the safety of
the shore. A wave seized Christoph’s boat,
lifted it high and flung it with its broad side
against the end of Lars’ vessel, breaking it in.
Lars saw it sinking before him. A thought
shot through Ids heart, frightful and vivid:
“Let the waves bury Christoph and Katie is
yours.” But the thought was gone in a mo
ment; in the next he had leaned far out,
grasped tho constant friend of his youth, now
struggling with death. But he lost his own
balance, sitting on the extreme edge. He
flung out liis hand to catch hold of something,
but found nothing, and plunged headlong. A
huge wave*seized the boat, threw it far from
the place, and iu the roaring of the waves a
last, despairing cry was lost.
At last th® fishermen had painfully reache« 1
the shore. Women and old men full of an
guish stood waiting the returning ones.
••Katie,” cried a voice from the darkness,
and tho girl felt herself embraced by two
arms.
“Christoph! thank heaven that you are
hero’”
She led him to her bouse. II® was silent,
all th® way, only bolding her fast. 8he, too,
hardly spoke. When they reached the house,
she noticed for the first time that bis clothet
were saturated, and nskod the reason, Then
his mouth quivered with repressed pain,
while he answered:
“Kasi*, the storm destroyed my boat.
Lars ¿natcbct) mo from tho waves, but bo
himself fell into the sea and'*—
“What?” Ebe asked, breathlessly.
“I could n^t save him,” be »id, almost in
audibly.
♦
♦
♦
•
®
®
After a few days the sea washed the body
of Lara ashore. It was th® only sacrifice it
bad demand«*«! that day. Lars had no pa
rents living, but even j»rents could not have
sued more burning tears than Katie and
Christ ph when bo was buried in the little
churchyard. The thought of him, th® con-
sciousneS'« that his sacrifice had secured their
liappincNs never left them.
Long after Katie went to th® altar with
Christoph, and ®h«n tl»ey camo from the
•hurcb their first step» were directed to th®
grave of Lars.—Translated iron» the German
by L. V. Htur.
Th® Cnlversal Cn«fom
Th® only custom which reetns to b« uni
versal, according LO a gentleman who has
just conimen<*ed a trip «round th« world, is
the use of tobacco. In many places be saw
the weed u«ed by women a« much as by men
E* rybody found smoking on tba street« of
Sangutock, Mi* h., during the dry spell was
liable to be ai reel «1 under tbe orders ot the
NO. 30
(
BILL
SOJOURNER TRUTH
Gives His
AN ACCOUNT OF HER INTERVIEW
WITH
PRESIDENT
GRANT.
Por»«kiiHl Appearance of tlie “Lybtan
Slbj 1”—Mor Words at the Cupitol«*«An
IiHroduction to Grant—An Impressive
Interview—The Parting.
I knew Sojourner Truth moro than forty
years ago in Now England. Hhe was then 70
years old, but seemed hardly beyond the
prime and glory of her womanhood. In those
days Harriot Beecher Stowe described her us
“the Lyl>ian Sibyl,” gifted with prophetic
insight aud tall and erect like a strong and |
graceful African palm tree. She would do .
more housework of the heaviest kind than ■
two ordinary women, and yet l>e one of the •
best watchers by a sickbed at night. A sick !
man she lifted to the best place on his bed as
easily and tenderly as a mother would lift
her baby, und the touch of her hand smooth
ing (he pillow and stroking the fevered brow
was health and quiet, while her wail, “There,
honey, you’s easier now,” had a strange
power to give ease and calm.
Untrained in grammar or rhetoric, never
able to read or write, there was a quaint dis
regard for set rule of s;»eech in her public and
private discourse, but. no fine rh.-torician
coul<i make his meaning plainer and few
could equal her in power of expression or ex
uberance of imagery. A few years after the
close of the civil war 1 went, with her to the
senate reception room in the Capitol at
Washington. She stood beneath tho center
of its arched ceiling and tho deep look of her
wonderful eyes seemed to take in tiie beauty
of pictured forms and glowing colors on its
walls, as she said: “Dis is liko the picture
chain I lei's of <le New Jerusalem dat dey read
about, in de Book.” Then she looked out of I
the window and saw the poor huts *»f the
freed p?ople not far nwav, and raid in tender
tones: “But they don’t have dem over there.”
A gr»‘at gospel of divinity and of tender hu
manity seemed spoken in two brief sentences.
Great souls can move other souls.
“AS THE SPIRIT TOLD HER."
In the winter of 1871-72 I sj>ent some time
in Washington, and about midwinter learned ]
that Sojourner Truth was in the city. Had
I not known her ways this would have
been a surprise, for the long winter’s journey 1
from her home nt Battle Creek, in the cen
ter of Michigan, was a serious undertaking
for a woman near her 100th birthday. But 1
knew that she always went “as the good
spirit told her,” and that some strong feeling
of duty to lie done led her to tho capital city.
Her wav opened, not long after, for some
good service among the freedmen at the
hospitals. I soon went to see her and she
said, with great earnestness: °I believe de
good Lord sent you, for you are de very one
1 wanted to see.” Asking what was specially
wanted, she said: “I want to see President
Grant, and you can get me there.” I told
her that was easier said than done, but I
would try, und the next day wrote a note to
him, suying she wished to see him at some fit
time, took it to the White House, sent it in
to the business office, and a verbal message
soon came back to me in the waiting room
that any morning would suit.
In a few days Sojourner, with two ladies,
a venerable friend of Quaker birth and my
self, went to meet the appointment and I sent
in a card, “Sojourner Truth and friends,’’
which brought back in a half hour a messen
ger to escort us to President Grant’s office.
He sat at the end of a long table in the center
of the room, with documents piled before
him, and just closing an interview with other
persons. I stepped forward to introduce the
party and to bring Sojourner beside the table.
She had met President Lincoln, und he, u
born Kentuckian, could call her “Aunty” in
the old fumiliur way, while Grant, though
kindly, was reticent, and all was not quite
easy at fii*st. But a happy thought camo to
her. Not long before the president bad
signed some bill of new guarantees of justic«
to tho colored people. S.ie spoke of this with
gratitude; the thin ice broke and words came
freely from both, for Grant waa an easy am
fluent talker, but had the wisdom of silence
until the fit time came to sp?ak.
Standing there, tall and erect while stirred
in soul by the occasion, her wonderful eyes
glowed as she thanked him for his good deeds
and gave wise counsel in her own clear and
quaint way.
FINE AND SIMPLE DIGNITY.
Her words came in tones full of deep j>ower
and tenderneM, and ho listened with great in
terest and respect, and told her that he
“hoped always to be just to all und especially
to see that the poor and defenseless wer<
fairly treated.” His voice and manner toL
bow bis heart was touched, and his softenet
tones showed how “the bravest are tho ten
derest.” Hhe told him how his tasks am
trials were appreciated and bow much faitl
was placed in bis upright doing of duty t<
the oppressed, and be quietly, yet with mucl>
feeling, expressed the hope that he might over
be wise and firm and never forget the inalien
able rights of all
Only great souls can comprehend true
greatness, and these two undeistood each
other. Nothing in the illustrious career of
Gen. Grant gave me a fuller *ras* of Ids
largeness of heart and mind than his unpre
tending simplicity and appreciative r**pect*in
this interview, while the fine and simple dig
nity of Sojourner Truth also gave me a fuller
sense of her largo womanhood. Hhe said tn
him: “I have a little book here that I call my
book of life. A good many names ar® in it,
aud I have kept a place on the sain® page
with Lincoln's for you to write your name.”
He 1 eplied: “I am glad to put it there,” and
wrote his autograph in her little book. Rhe
then said: “It will do me good for you to
have my photograph," and with evident
pleasure he thanked her and selected on®
from several laid on the table.
The conversation hud lasted beyond the
usual time, others stood by, waiting their
turn, yet listening with great inlerest. and
the fit timo ram® to leave. Th® president
rose from his chair and gave Sojourner hi*
hand with a parting word of good will. This
mutual respect ami appreciative sympathy
between the president of a great republic
and a woman born a slave and represent!ug
an oppressed jx'opi* was admirable and inspir
ing—G. B Stebbins.
Strange Control of Vlori«®«.
Hine® boyhood I ba/e always had a strange
control of borsrw. I can no more explain it
tlian I could tell you why my eyes are b ack;
but it is a fart thnt bsfors I have handled a
horse long he will follow me hko a dog and
mrwer my command. 1 one® bad th® four
horses that pull the engine at Broadway and
Almond under such control that nt »he dis
tance of a block they would answer my whis
tle and race like th® wind to
which could
reach rrx* firat. An old fir® bores was one®
sold to an ashman. H® was hitched to a post
a block away, and I thought 1 recognized
him, and 1 whistled. I had not sp « hi him for
two years, but b® recog mas* i my whistle, and,
breaking th® bitching strap, h® cam® tearing
to in®, with th® cart rattling behind him. A
few minutes later the exritsd owner cam® up
and thanked me warmly Cur catching bis
runaway bora®.—Assistant Firs Chief in
| Glut® Dvmocj at
NYE
V« h * m A«> h of tlie Story of Char
lotte Corday.
A constant- roador of The Globo has writ
ten to know something of Charlotte Corday.
and as the letter has been referred to me, 1
take great pleasure iu stating briefly, anc
in glowing terms, what I am able to recall
of this eccentric young woman's life.
Charlotte Corday was born on a foreigi
strand, now known as Normandy, named ir
honor of the large speckled gray horst»
with thick, piano legs and gross necks, tbal
come from there to engage in hauling beci
wagons in the land of the free and the houw
of the brave.
Here Charlotte was born in the year 1703
Like the record of Mr. Spartacus, who, ii
8i>eaking of bis own experience, said that hb
early life ran quiet as the clear brook bj
whWh he sported, the childhood of Char
lotto Corday was almost devoid of interest,
being monotonous and unanimous, as ft sell
made man said to me not long since, refer
ring to the climate of the south.
She early turned her attention, however,
to the matter of patriotism, hoping to ob
tain a livelihood in the patriot line some
day. She investigated the grievances ol
France, and gave her attention almost ex
clusively to the invention of some way bj
which to redress these grievances. Hom«
of them had not been redressed for oentu
ries, ami they ought to have been ashamed of
themselves.
According to all accounts, the grievance»
of France were, at that time, in full drew
and short sleeves, ready for the ball t<
open.
It fell to <he lot of Charlotte Corday t<
open the ball.
She was a beautiful girl, with clear blue
eyes, placed at equal distances from a tall,
light colored nose, which was pale when in
repose, blit flushed delicately when she wai
in tears. Her ripe and ruddy French inoutt
opened and closed readily wbeu she was en
gaged in conversation, and her white and
beautiful shoulders, ever and anon, while sh(
talked, humped themselves like a hired man
on his way to dinner.
She had, also, tresses of hair of that pecul
iar Titian variety which is supposed to g<
with freckles and a high temper. The his
torian says that her hair looked black as it
divided over her fair forehead and hung
back across her shapely head, but at night,
as it was drain'd across the richly carved
frame of the an revoir where the fire light
or the Norman Hose company could play
upon it, you would have thought it a bright
and inflammatory red. Charlotte Corday
was tall and graceful, and when her elastic
stop and heroic foot followed the light meas
ure of some gay French tune at an Octobei
pumpkin peeling, she could dance on foi
hours without jarring the glass in th« win
dows very much.
Her costume was simple and did not. cost
a great deal. It consisted of a Normandj
cap made of cheese cloth in shape like the
tail of a setting hen, and trimmed in front
with real French lace from the ten oenl
counter. Iler dress was all wool delaine
with a pin stripe in it and trimmed with th
same. Her other dresses were different.
Iler stockings were toll and slender as seer
hanging on the woman clothes line at Caen,
but her heart was gay and happy as th« day
was long.
Charlotte Corday was one of a larg»
family whose descendants wore called Cor
duroy. They were the instigators of a style
of road that has done more to shorten th»
spinal column and jolt the jejunum int<
chaos than any other line of inventions
throughout the United States.
Charlotte Corday had a voice which ac
oompanied her in all het* rambles, and it if
said that it was very musical and standed
first rate.
Her parents were poor, so she had very
few advantages, ns will be noticed at. one»
by the careful student who reads her MH8.
to-day and notices where she has frequently
spell««! cabbage with a k. She spoke FroooL
fluently, but was familiar with no other for
sign tongue whatever.
She took a great interest, in politico, but
did not indorse the administration. Sb«
felt more os|M»rially bitter toward a gentle
man namal Marat, who was rather literary
in his habits and who also acted as a kind
of chairman of the National Central oom
mittee. To his other work he had also ad
iled the tedious and exhausting task of pick
ing out people and indorsing them as suite
ble persons to be beheaded. Being a jour
nalist he had to write hard all the Evening
to get the hook full of red hot political edi
torial copy, and then when ho should have
gone to bed and to rest, he had to take the
directory and pick out enough people for a
mess the following day.
In this way Marat was kept very busy,
with the foreman on his heels all day and
the guillotine on his heels all night, aw1
every man was afraid to see the deput
sheriff coming, for fear he had a subpoena
for him. It was no unusual thing in those
days for a Frenchman to turn off the ga«
and go to bed, only to find his shirt collar
all bloody where the guillotine had binged
his hair just, above his Adam’s apple in the
morning.
Those were indoefl squirming times, as M
de Lamartine, ft humorous writer of Franco,
has so truly said. No man felt perfectly
safe when he saw Marat at a sociable or a
caucus. It was impossible to tell whether
lie had come to write the thing np for hlw
paper or pick out *ime more people to be
killed by the administration. They got v
that. Marat could induce any of them to sub
scribe for his paper, and people advertise*.
in his columns for things they did not wan*
in order to show that they felt perfectly
friendly toward him.
It was at this time that Charlotte Corday
called one morning fit the apartments of
Mr. Marat with ft view tn assassinating him
She sent in worl that a young Indy from
Caen desired to see Mr. Marat for the pur-
powof piying her rabitcription. Rhe was-
told thnt the editor was taking a bath. Rhe
laughed n cold, Incredulous laugh, for sin
had «eon a groat many French journalists,
and when one of them sent word to her that
ho was bathing she could ill repress a low,
gurgling langh.
Finally she was admitted to his privet*
apartments, where ho was indeed in th*
bath with an old table cloth thrown over
him, engaged In writing a scathing criticism
on th* custom of summer fallowing old
buckwheat lands and sowing Swedish tnr
nips on them in July, when the country
was v> crowded for cemetery ronin.
Charlotte apologized for disturbing th#
great journalist at such a tim*, and remark
ing thnt we were having rather a backward
spring produced a short stab knife with
which she cut a large overcoat button hole
in th® able journalist’s thorax.
Kha then passed inte th* office, and leav
ing word to have her paper stopped sb« went
to the executioner.
Ix*t ns learn from this brief bit of history
never to ««ressinnt* any one unless it be done
I in relf defense —Bill Nye In Boston Globa.
i?olora«ln’s Peculiar Winds.
“Well, no,” said the Coloradan, “we don’t
have any winds to amount to anything, but
it blows a few min Utt's there now and then.
The winds are peculiar, too; I never saw any
thing like them anywhere else. They are
what you might call discriminating breezes.
I’ve seen a man go aloug the street, and it
would be blowing a hurricane on one «ide of
him; and on the other side it would be a dead
calm. I’ve seen a mule stand bra***d against
the wind blowing behind her, with her tail
blown rigid up straight) and one ear put
away ahead of her nose, while the ear on the
other side would be in a natural, calm posi
tion, and that side of the boast would be
sweating! It will take the skin off one side of
your face and not touch the other. I saw a
man with whiskers get one side of his face
shaved bv a wind like that, as clean us any
barber con hi do it. A small boy and a dog
were walking up the street with him at the
time, and they each lost on« ear. I’ve seen a
man lose one leg of his pants and a coat tail,
ami get his hat knocked all over on one side.
They don’t do any particular daniogtf, those
winds, but they are ns peculiar ns can be!”—
Descendant ot S. VV. in Sait I Ake Tribune.
The Wolf aud the Peasant—-A Fable.
A peasant who was on watch while bi,
flock of goats were feeding discovered a wolf
prowling about and fired upon him. The
wolf, who narrowly escaped being hit, ad
vanced in great indignation and demanded:
“By what right do yon fire upon me with
out having seen me commit some overt act?"
“My dear sir,? replied the peasant as he
proceeded to reload his guu, “the best time to
fire a! a wolf is before he has killed your
goats.”
MORAL.
Armi your burglar liefere he burgle.
Detroit Free Frees.
Art in Chicago.
Two gaudily attired la<lies were observed
recently inspecting tJte colossal statu« of
Schiller, of which Chicago is pardonably
proud.
“What a remarkably large man he must
have been,” said one, craning her neck and
gazing up at the flowing locks and prominent
nose of the figure.
“Yes,” replied the other, with the conde
scending air of one imparting knowledge,
“The Scotch are always large men.”—Detroit
Free Press.
Example» of Tenderness.
Fogg— I really lw»g a thousand pardons. I
fear 1 stepped on your dog. Little Miss
Marigold—Oh, it doesn’t matter! the dog
Isn’t mine; ho belongs to tUp other little girt
TOUCHING DEVOTION.
Estelle—And uro you going to leave me so
soon, Augustus? Augustus—My Jove, I
would willingly give ten years of my life if I
could stay longer. But if I don’t go I shall
be fined for being late at a card party.—Chi
cago Rambler.
I
He W hs From Minneapolis.
“Have you beard of that interesting care
down east of a woman who was cured of
paralysis by the miraculous power of a relio
of Ht. Pauir
“Yes, I have; but Pm from Minneapolis,
and I wouldn’t touch a relic of St. Paul with
a ton foot pole.”—Chicago It ambler.
A Hurt llnblt.
The hniiit of abbreviating everything one
writes is a bud one. The Woburn Advertiser
tells of seeing a communication width spoke
of a lady appearing at the theatre iu ova. cua-
tuinu.—I.ynn Item.
Brevities.
Inconvenience is the father of invention.—
WhiteliHil Times.
A hit tn time saves the nine on many a ball
field.—Newark Call.
Tolmcco chewing is so popular in Illinois
that a movement has l>een inaugurated to
( hang® the name of th« lake city to Chew-
cago.—Life.
Th® superintendent of a county fair in Ohio
economized time, Ry>ace and paint, by putting
up the sign, “Gr& Ht&." That's good ,n
sense.—Burdette.
It is h sight to make angels snicker to see a
fish jrnian pull out of the water a two-inch
sucker with an outfit that caste him $25
or $30.—Boston Transcript
“Garments without buttons” are advertised.
Evidently the cast-off clothing of bachelor*
who don’t know how to handle thread and
needle. — Norristown Herald.
If the genius who informs you now that the
days are growing shorter is not careful he
will stumble over the equally valuable fact
that the nights are growing longer.—New
York Graphic,
Boston Girl—What do you think of Emer
son, Mr. Wayoffl Mr. W. (from Cincinnati)
—Well, Billy used to sing pretty well, but he
never was hr tunny to me as Billy lUee or
Charley Backus.—Chicago Ila in bier.
Extract from a young Newport swell’s note
to a friend: “Horry i Can't bee introduced
two your sister Tills afternoon, mi Valett left
mi Tiiree o’clock Huit in naw York and 1
kouldent Go out iu a Checked suit Then. Or-
fuMy sorry. Faithfully youra, Algernon
Bertie Hilly.”—New York Mail.
THE GREAT REGULATOR
PURELY VEGETABLE.
▲re You Bilious?
Thr H^ffulator nercr fail» tn rare. 1 mo<t
cheerfully recommend it to all who suffer from
Bilious Attacks or any Disease caused by a dis
arranged state of the Liver.
K ansas C ity , Mo.
W R BERNARD.
Do You Want Good Digestion ?
/
with l-'ull fitntnath, Ufa ft
nrhf. fte. d nfiahbnr, irho hnd tahfn Simmon»
/ > <*r
told mf tt wn» » nr» curt for mt/
fr/w$te. TKf fir ft tie»» I tonlt rfiltvtd me rvry
nnd in oan iseek's tim» I wn» »» »trona and
hearty a» I »cor wa». It la tha boat m®ette«u«
f fft-T tank fur Dyprpatfi.
Rlt HMONS, VA.
n s ennstur.
Do You Suffer from Constipation ?
Testimory «f H iram W asnss , ChJustice of
Ga. : *’ 1 bars used Simmons Liver Regulator for
' enetipadon ®f my Bcwwh, caused by a temporary
Derangement of »he Liver, for the last three ot
four years, and always wdtA «fs®<d®4 b®n«/tr.‘’
Have Yon Malaria ?
! have had »xparianff with Stmmon» Llrfr Rryu
'atnr tin»»
and regard It ss tka proatfat
meitlrian nf the tirana for diaraaoa prru-
llnr tn mnlnHwl rrylnnJi. So goad • med<-
<•»»»* deterr»» gnarrtni eommendation.
RFV If. ¥.
for. Sa»*y Southam Bapfiot rhaotogiml JraUmary
Ssfer and Better than Calomel
Fnlnt«4.
I
to writ* my num» upon
: yrnir hmrt, R*p*<vw, but it tm w hard Mh
I
Rrbowo—Vy don’t you try, Iman, to
I writ* ymir rum. my h<«rt on wid • fl»»
bnndnrt tollar tiamond ring ab?-Tana
^Htli^t.
—
... —
I
J have bee® whjwfl to sever* «»ells of Confection
of the Liver, and have been I® the habit of taking
fr. m • 5 to so grains of calomel, whieh genevaHy laid
me up for three or four dap. Lately I have been
r iking Simmons IJ ver Regulator .which gave me m-
l ef, irteAwwt ana inturruptlaa 9o9ooodnoaa.
Mt»»«.Bvt?RY, <mio
J. nVGG.
J. H. Zrihn
4 C»., fhiMelfhh, Pu.