THE CHARLOTTE MESSENGER.
VOL. 111. NO. .SO
THE
Charlotte Messengre
IS PUBLISHED
Every Saturday,
AT
CHARLOTTE, N. C.
Ir the Interests of the Colored People
c£ the Country.
‘Me and well known writers will contrib
e!" to its columns from different parts of the
country, and it will contain the latest Gen
,trill News of (he day. i
The Messenoer is a first-class newspaper
slid will not allow personal abnse in its col
umns. It is not sectarian or partisan, but
independent- dealing fairly by all. It re
serves Ihe righ tto criticise (he shortcomings
es nil public officials—commending the
■rorl by. and recommending for election such
men ns in itsoninion are b«t suited to serve
the interests of the people.
!t is intended £o supply the long feit need
~f n newspaper to advocate the rights and
defend the interests of the Negro American,
esprr iollv in the Piedmont section of the
Carolina 5.
RUBSCKIPTIOHB:
i dileoys in Advance.)
1 vear - - - 81 .VI
- months - - - 100
r months ... 75
t months - - 50
;i months - - 40
Address,
W.C. SMITH, Charlotte N C,
The can icr pigeon service, in Paris Is
row m ist carefully organized, and the
latest census shows that there are 2,500
trained birds, which tan take dispatches
in and out the capital in the roughest
weather. Some are taught to go to the
neighboring forts and towns, others to
distant parts of the provinces.
About 20,000 people are annually
destroyed in India by v>tmals, and of
these nineteen are said to be bitten by
snakes. The number of human victiips
tends to increase, in spite of the fact
that the number of wild beasts and
snakes destroyed has doubled in the last
ten years, and that the Government re
ward paid for their extermination has
men proportionately. Nearly 2 1-2 lakhs
of rupees (about $125,000) were thus
paid in 1884. Next to venomous rep
tiles, tigers claim most victims. Ten
years ago wolves, mostly in the North
west provinces and Oudh, killed five
times as many people as of late years;
hut the extermination of wolves seems to
he going on rapidly. Leopardi are the
alleged cause of death to about 200 hu
man beings annually. Apatt from the
loss of human lif ■, the returns show an
annual destiuction of 50,000 head of
cattle.
Whatever the exact relative strength of
the three great standing army powers of
Europe (Trance, Germany and Knssia)
may be, no one can dispute that the keep
ing of 7,000,000 men almost constant
ly under arms is detrimental to national
or continental prosperity. England’s
250,000 sinks into insignificance com
pared with the gigantic army-roll of
thcse'three kingdoms; but Austria has a
standing army but slightly inferior in
point of numbers to that of Germany,
and Italy and Turkey can each put hun
dreds of thousands of soldiers into tho
field. Thus Europe has become a verita
ble continent of soldiers—an armed
'amp. The taxes necessary to maintain
these literally countless masses, to clothe
them in dazzling costumes, and to equip
them with the newest patterns of life
destroying weapons, are prodigious.
Nor is this the only, or indeed the
worst, effect of this railitsrianism run
wild. Trade and commerce are affected
to an extent described as appalling, and
I’.ismarck did not overstate the case when
he said that a few more years of tension
inch as now existed must involve the
most prosperous nation in ruin.
"W 'rt
The San Francisco Chronicle says that
‘ Japan, with nearly 40,0(0,050 people,
has only 875,(00 head of cattle and 1,-
200,000. horses, and ia without mules,
swine or sheep. Wc have two head of
horned cattle to every three persons.
The Japanese have 50) persons to each
head of bovine stock. We have one
horse or mule to every four persons; they
have only one horse to every thirty-three
persons, of sheep they have no knowl
edge, as they wear no woolen clothes
and eat no mutton? Swine meat is aa
much an abomination to them as
it is to the flrshtnins. The Emperor
rode on a wheeled carriage and that mode
of conveyance was made sacred to his
toe, while other [ cople must ride in other
fashions or walk. The nobility monop
olizes sedan ch tirs and horseback riding,
and to the common people was left the
privilege of walking. The farmera and
packers on their return from markets
won d, however, mount their horses, but
upon 1h- appearance of one of the men
at-arms they would tumble off in all pos
sible haste, so aa to meet their superiors
in their proper places ; that ia, on foot.
Horsca thus became aristocratic animals
SMJ were held in higl, esteem.
CHARLOTTE, N.C. SATURDAY. FEBRUARY 5, 1887.
UNITY.
One law there Is for every grain of sand
And overy star. Howo’er the sand be blown
By shifting winds about, or shoreward
thrown
By surge of wave resLt'ew, yet the Hand
That on the farthest star lays strict command,
To hold It fast In orbit all its own,
Not for one brooth space leaves the speck
alone.
But brings itstlUat last, aa first was plained.
Bo is’t with spirits, too: ono law there is,
Here where sve toes and turn so aimlessly.
The sport of whim and chance, and yonder,
where
They move in rest, their souls encircling JLla
The wave will pass, the wind lie down, and
we
With them shall rest, their fall obedience
share.
—Bradford Torre y.
GRIM WALKER’S REVENGE.
Between the years 1833 and 1865 a full
thousand people heard the story of Grim
Walker. That was during the fiercest
part of our civil war, and minor inci
dents were speedily absorbed and for
gotten. I doubt if there are a score of
people living to-dav who can recall the
details ot this singular man’s adventures,
and I do not remember that anything
save a brief outline of the massacre of
his family has ever appeared in print.
I was a pony express rider on the Over
land route. That meant helping to guard
Stages, carrying a light mail on my sad
dle, forwarding dispatches, taking my
turn to act as agent of some stable, and
various other things which need not be
explained. There were then several great
trails leading west from the borders of
civilization, and all were more or less
traveled, but the favorite routes were
from St. Joseph and Council Bluffs, the
one being known as the northern and
other as the southern route. I was on a
route aloDg the Platte Hivcr west of Fort
Kearney.which w~as sometimes fifty miles
long, and sometimes 135, according to
the way the Indians were behaving, and
the number of men we had for service.
Grim Walker was a pioneer named
Charles. O. Walker, from near lowa
City. He was a giant in size, naturally
sour and taciturn of disposition, and his
family consisted cf a wife and three
children. While the country was ex
cited over the civil war, and travel by
the Overland had almost come to a stop,
except in cases of necessity. Walker and
others formed an immigrant party to
make a push for the golden land. When
I first heard of them they numbeted
twenty wagons and sixty or seventy peo
ple, and were on the Platte, east of
Kearney, which was then dangerous
ground. When the outfit reached
Kearney, some were for turning back,
others lor electing a new Captain, others
for settling down near by and establish
ing ranches. It seemed that there were
three or four different factions in the
party, and several bitter quarrels had re
sulted. In the then state of affairs -00
brave and united men could have scarce
ly hoped to reach the Colorado or Wy
oming lino, for the Indians were up in
arms on every trail, and thirsting for
blood and scalps. When it was known,
therefore, that Grim Walker, as he had
come to be known, had been elected
Captain of a faction and intended to
push on at the head of only seven fami
lies, whicli could muster but nine fight
ing men, soldiers, hunters, Indian fight
ers, and overland men argued and scold
ed and predicted. Not an argument
could move Grim Walker. Not a pre
diction could frighten one of his adher
ents. It appeared to them to be a < use
where manhood and pride were at stake,
and when it was hinted that the military
would restrain them they made secret
preparations and departed at night. It
was an awful thing lor those bigote t
and determined men to diire their
wives and children, consisting of twen
ty two people, to a horrible death, but
nothing short of a battle with the mili
tary would have stopped them,
j They left Kearney one night about 10
o’clock, drawing away quietly and trav
i eling at their best speed. They could
i not have gone ten miles before being dis
i covered by the Indians. A party of
j .weity of us left over the same trail at
! noon next day, and we had gone only
! fifteen miles when wc found evidences
j that the little party, which was keeping
■ along the Platte, had been attacked.
This must have been about daylight.
; Soon after sunrise they had been driven
l to shelter in a grove of cottonwoods, but
, before reaching it one of the men had
been killed ana scalped, a wagon had
| broken down and been abandoned, and
stray bullets had killed a woman and a
1 child as they cowered down behind t'ie
cargo of the wagons. At 4 o’clock in the
afternoon we came to the grove, driving
away the last of the savages, but we were
too late. Such a spectacle as we there
| beheld was enough to sicken the heart of
' the bravest Indian fighter. The little
| party had been attacked by about 300
redskins, and the fight had lasted for
half a day. As near as we could figure
from blood spots on the larth fourteen
j Indians had been killed, and there were
bloody trails to show that as many moro
had been wounded. The foolhardy men
had (lied game aa an offset. We made
| out that their camp had been carried by
a charge, and that the last of the fighting
was hand to hand. Eive of tho women
had been carried off into horrible cap
tiv.ty, while all others had been butch
ered—all save Grim Walker. The bodies
had been cut and hacked and mutilated
in a terrible manner, but we could have
identified Walker or hie size, even had
he been decapitated. The immigrants'
hoises had all been killed, the wagons
plundered snd burned, and the savages
were bundling up tome of the plunder
when wereme in sight and drove th-m
away. All that was left us was the ted
work of burying the corpses.
( L. month' later we beard that Grim
j Walker bad escaped from the fight,
j breaking out of the grove and riding off
on a horse just as the conflict closed in.
j Men belonging to the Overland had met
. and talked with him east of Kearney. He
had three wounds, but seemed uncon
scious of them as he briefly related the
story of the fight, and vowed that he
wou’id have the live* of five Indians for
every white person who had perished.
Nothing further wu heard of him until
June of the following year. I was then
in Government employ as a scout and de
spatch rider, and was on the Smoky Hill
Fork of the Kansas River, twenty miles
west of Fort McPherson, riding with two
other scouts, when we came upon Grim
Walker. He had gone east after the
massacre, and had built for himaelf a
bullet-proof wagon. It Was a great cage
•n wheels, and everything about it was
made of iron. Wheels, box, bottom,
top—every part of it was bullet proof.
It was pierced cr looplioled in fifty place*
for musketry, ventilated at the top, and
was drawn by four mules. The man
must have had considerable means at his
disposal to pay for a vehicle like that,
and he had come all the way from Coun
cil Bluffs alone. The intcricr was fitted
up with a (deeping berth, iron tanks for
holding food and water, and he had come
back to the plains to keep his vow. But
for hit grimuess the idea would have
raised a laugh. He must hare been en
route for maey Ion; days, and he cer
tainly had passed through many perils.
We heard afterward that as he reached
the fort one afternoon, and it became
know* that he would push on, every
effort was made to dissuade him For
a time he was silent—grim—deaf. Then
! he pointed to the northeast and said:
, “There lie the bones of my children
• and friends, and I will not rest until I
! have avenged them twiee over."
i They told him the country was alive
with Itostlles, and that every rod of the
way was beset with perils; but as the
sun went down he harnessed his mules
to the iron tongue, climbed into the sad
dle, end without nod of farewell to any
one he rode to the west in the gathering
gloom—more grim, more determined,
more of a devil than a human being. He
had traveled a good share of the night
over a country in which death lurked in
every ravine, but the watchful savages
j had not espied him. Ho had traveled
: until mid-afternoon next day along a
; trail where savages outnumbered the
j snakes twenty to one, but somehow they
l.ad missed him. We were riding at full
speed for the fort, keeping the shelter of
i the d:y ravines and the valleys, and ex
! ;i eting at any moment to be pursued,
j whiu wo ran upon Grim Walker. His
: wauon stood e n the open prairie, at least
j b .If a mile from the river and the shelter
1 :.! the cottonwoods. Tho four mulee had
been unharnessed and turned out to
graze, and the man was cooking his sup-
I cr at a campfire, the smoke of which
would draw Indians for ten miles around.
{ Our astonishment when we found him
there alone kept us dumb for a few min
' utes. We sat on onr horses and stared
at him, and he greeted onr presence by
a mere nod. When I recognized him as
Grim Walker I began to suspect the
enterprise he had on foot, and after I
had put a few questions he briefly ex
plained:
“I am here to kill Indians. You can
ook my wagon over if you want to.”
It was what 1 have described. lie had
> barrel or more cf fresh water, a lot of
i lour and meat, a small stove to rock
! >n, and a perfect arsenal of firearms. It
i was evident that the Indians could not
! get at him with bullets nor tomahawk,
] tor tire, and it would take weeks to
: itarve him out. There was only one
hing that troubled the man. His'stock
would be killed off at onre when he was
it tacked, and he would then have u way
,rs moving his wagon. We helpm him
! rut of his dilemma by agreeing to take
he animals to the Fort. The harnesses
were piled into his house, and it was un
derstood that he would come for the
, mulct when he wanted them. He had a
tompass, and we gave him the exact
hearings, and as we rode away he was
| preparing to toast another piece of meat,
teeming utterly unconcerned over the
jangers of his surroundings. As to what
happened him (luring the next three
weeks I had a few meagre details from
Ids own lips, but plenty of information
iront warriors who afterward became
“friendly.” That ia. when licked out
>f their boots half a dozen times, their
villages destroyed, many of their panic*
-hot. and their squaws and children
driven to temporary starvation, they
ritd for peace in order to recruit and
make ready for another campaign.
The campfire which Grim Walker built
mred the three of us from lxlng ain
oushed. A warrior told me that'forty
j civages were betwe n ua and the fort
when the smoke led them to believe that
t large party of inim grants must be
-amped in the bottoms. It could only
| iz a large party which would dare bnild
such a tire in a hostile country. The
warriors were all drawn off by a signal to
ittack the larger game, and uefore sun
down that evening two hundred murder
jus redskins were opeoiug their ere*
eery wide at the site of the one lone
wagon anchored on the rrairie under
dirir noses. How did it get there!
Where were the horse* or mu'eel Was
it occupied! They must have asked
:he.i.selves these questions over and over
tgain, but there stood tho wagon, grim,
tilent, mysterious. Tho whole band
finally moved down for a closer inspec
tion. I relieving the vehicle had been
ibandoned, and hopeful that something
u the shape of plunder had been lelt
behind. They had come iloee—they
bad entirely surrounded tho vehirie—
when a sheet of flame darted from one of
the porthole*, and Grim Walk-'r had be
zun to tally hit victim*. Before the red
(kins could get out of range he had killed
‘even of them, uaing shotguns and buck
ihot. It was only when they came to
return the lire that the savage* discovered
what -ort of a vehicle had been haulad
, but there among them. They wa-tesl
hundreds of bullet* before they ceased
firing, and with a rifle Walker killed two
more of them before night set in.
The superstitious nature of the Indian
would have driven him away had he not
burned for revenge. And, too, it was
irguod that the wagon must contain
tomething of great value to have been
built that way, and greed was added to
tho thirst for vengeance. They be- j
iieved that the bottom of the box, at
least, was of wood, and about three
hour* after dark a number of warriors,
each having a bunch of dry grass under
bit arm, crept forward to the vehicle to
start a fire under it. They crept as
noiselessly as serpents, but before a man
as them had passed under a double-bar
reled shotgun belched forth it* con
tent*, and two more bucks set out sot
the happy hunting grounds. Next day.
refusing to believe thst a wagon could
be bullet proof, the Indians opened a
faailnde, which was maintained for two
hours. They were behind trees and logs
sod other cover, and not a shot was pro
voked in response. Various schemes
were concocted to get at the wagon,
which wax finally believed to contain a
partv of hunters, but none promised
success. At noon, however, a number
of young warriors volunteered to carry
out a plan. There were twelve of them,
usd they were to approach the wagon in
a wide circle. The idea wu to seize and
U|aet it, and thus render the occupants
barinless. The circle wu made, and it
, gradually narrowed until the signal for
a rush wu made.
The man within—grim, silent, watch- |
ful—let the circle close, and tho wtr- j
riors seise Ohe wheels before he opened
fire. It would have taken a dozen stout
mm to have lifted two of the wheels off
the ground. He shot down throe of
them and the others fled in terror, and
half an hour later the siege wu aban
doned and the Indians were moving oft.
For two long weeks the wagon remained
on the spot, an object of curiosity to
scouts and hunters—an object of awe
snd menace to the savages. Then, one
morning, just at daylight, Grim Walker
came into Fort McPherson for his mules.
He wu going to move his iron cage to
new field*. He replenished his provi
sions. and inside of two hours w*9 off
again, having spoken less than fifty
wordsduring his stay. It seemed as if
he had grown taller, fiercer, more grim
and revengeful. There wu something
pitiful in knowing that be alone had
survived the massacre; something ap
palling in the knowledge that he had
become a Nemesis whom nothing but
blood wonld satisfy.
The wagon was moved north to the
bud-waters of the Saline Fork. One
who hu been over the route will wonder
how it could have been done. It wu at
tacked there one forencon about 10
o’clock by a bafld of thirty warriors who
bad been raiding on the Solomon’s
River. The mules were staked out, and
Grim Walker sat at his camp fire. The
warriors charged up on horseback, be
lieving they had a hunter’s or surveyor’s
outfit, and while they stampeded and se
cured the mules, four of them were
killed from the loopholes of the cage.
They came back again, and another was
killed and two were wounded. Then
they discovered what sort of sn enemy
they had to deal with and withdrew.
Grim Walker and his wagon re
mained there for a month. When
the Indians would no longer
come tc him he net out In search of them,
and he became a veritable terror.
Twentv different warriors whom I inter
viewed between 1864 and 1867 told me
that Walker was more feared than a hun
dred Indian fighters. He killed every
j thine he came to that was Indian, in
cluding squaws, ponies, children, and
j dogs. No camp felt safe from him. He
had the ferocity of a hungry tiger and
| the cunning of a serpent. He used his
iron wagon as headquarters and made
raids for fifty miles around. During the
summer our scouts saw Walker or his
| wagon once a fortnight. He was Inst
' seen alive on September 2. on the Repub
i lican River, when he had a fresh Indian
■ scalp at his belt. He bad then blown
up bis wagon with gunpowder and
- abandoned it. although he did not state
the fact. Hia hair and beard had be
come long and unkempt, his clothing
was in rags, and there could be no doubt
that he had gone mad. On the 15th of
the month, as I rode with an escort of
soldiers south of where he was seen on
the 2d. and fifty milea from the spot, we
found him dead. He lay on a bare
knoll, on the broad of his back, with his
Isrms foldid over his breast and his rifle
hv his side. His eyes were wide open, as
if looking at the buzzards sailing above
him. and we soon satisfied ourselves that
be had died from natural causes. 11a
had a dozen scare and wounda, but dis
ease had overpowered him, or his work
had been done. He had exacted a full
measure of vengeance. Better for the
> Indians had they let bit immigrant party
pass on in peace, for he had brought
i mourning to a hundred lodge*.—Aria
j Tork Sun.
Worldly Wisdom.
“What is the best thing in this world!’
! a tiaveler wu once asked, after he had
traversed Christendom and returned to
his native town to enlighten the vil
lagers with his wisdom. “Liberty," he
answered.
“Wbat’e is the most pleuantl”
’•Cain.”
“The leut known 1"
“Good fortune.”
“Who i* the most happy man In the
world!”
“The learned man. who hu riches and
knows the use of them.”
“The most importunate!"
“The hard-hearted creditor."
"The mod dangerous!”
“The ignorant physician.”
I “The most pitiable!”
“The liar, who is not believed when
he tells the truth.”
Though some of these answers may
aot be approved, there ia food for
thought in them all.—FourA’s Compan
ion.
PRISON LIFEJN SIBERIA.
AN ACCOUNT OF THE FAMOUS RUS
SIAN PENAL SETTLEMENT.
More than 10,000 Criminals Ex- ]
tied Yearly—Political Prtsons-
The Lite Led by Exilea
For nearly two centuries, writes
Thomas W. Knox, in the New York
Star, Siberia has been famous, or infa
mous, as a place of banishment for those
who offend against the social or political
laws of Russia. Peter the Great began
the transportation of criminals to Sibe
ria in 1710; previous to that date the
country had been used as a land of ban
ishment for officials whom the govern
ment wished to get out of the way with
out putting them to death, but the num
ber of those deported individuals was not
large. Ever since Peter’s day the work
of exiling criminals to Siberia has been
kept up; the ordinary travel of this sort
is about 10,000 annually, and sometimes
it reaches as high as 12,000 or 13,000.
Outside of this deportation is that of
revolutionists, nihilists and others who
offend politically rather than criminally,
though any opposition to the autocratic
power of the Czar is likely to be re
garded as criminal in the eyes of the
Russian government.
Sometimes the political prisoners are
mingled with the criminals, but ordi- i
narily they are kept apart. In former
times the prisoners were compelled to
walk to their destinations, and the jour
ney from St. Petersburg to the regions
beyond Lake Baikal, a distance of nearly
4,000 miles, occupied two years, and
sometimes more, and many of the exiles
died on the road from fatigue and pri
vations. It was found more economical
to transport the offenders in wagons or
sleighs, or by rail and steamboat when
possible, than to require them to walk,
and for tho last twenty years or more
five-sixths of the exiles have been car
ried in this way. At points varying
from ten to twenty miles apart along the
great road tnrough Siberia there are
houses for the lodgment of prisoners at,
night. They afford a shelter from the
weather, but very little else, as they are
almost always badly ventilated and
very dirty, and occupants sleep on the
bare floor or benches, without any other
covering than the clothes they wear.
Sometimes in summer the officer in charge
of a convoy of prisoners will permit them
to sleep out of doors at night, instead of
entering the filthy stations, but in such
a case he requires the personal promise
of every exile in the convoy that he will
make no attempt to escape, and he
furthermore makes the whole party re
sponsible for the individual conduct.
I nder such circumstances if one of the
prisoners should violet* Ms p.iole and
run away, no further favors would be
shown to the rest, and they would be
put on low rations of food and other
wise punished. It is gncedless to say
they take good care that the promise is
kept. This privilege is accorded only
to the convoys of political offenders.
The criminal classes are not considered
worthy of such confidence in theirhonor.
Prison life i.t Siberia is of many va
rieties, according to the offenses of dif
ferent individuals and the sentences
which have been decreed in their cases.
The lowest sentence is to simple banish
ment for three years, and the highest to
hard labor for litc. The simple exile
without imprisonment is appointed to
live in acertain town,districtor province,
and must report to the police at stated
intervals. Ho may engage in certain
specified occupations, or rather in any
occupation which is not on a prohibited
list; for example, he may teach music or
painting, but he may not teach languages,
as they afford the opportunity for propa
gating revolutionary ideas. He may be
come merchant, farmer, mechanic, con
tractor, or anything else of that sort,and
it not infrequently happens that exiles
enjoy a degree of prosperity in their new
homes that they did not have in Eu
ropean Russia. Exiles and their sons
have become millionaires in Siberia; a
former Vanderbilt of Irkootsk, the capi
tal of Eastern Siberia, was the son of an
exile serf, his enormous fortune having
been gained in the overland tea trade.
Many exiles become so attached to Sibe
ria that they remain after their term
of banishment is ended, but it should be
understood that their cases are the ex
captions rather than the rule. The wife
and immature children of an exile may
follow or accompany him at the expense
of the Government, but they cannot re
turn to Europe until his term of service
has expired. The name of “prisoner'’
or "exile” is never applied to the ban
ished individuals; in the language of
the people they are called “unfortu
nates,” and in official documents they
are termed ‘ involuntary emigrants.”
Os those sentenced to forced labor
some are ordered to become colonists;
; they are furnished with the tools and
! materials for building a house on a plot
of ground .allotted to them, and for three
1 years can receive rations from the nearest
1 government station, but when the three
j years have expired they are expected to
i support themselves. If they were sent
I to the southern and therefore fertile parts
! of Siberia their lot would not he a severe
i one, but the most of theso'colonists are
: assigned to the northern regions, wh.re
I the support of life from tilling the soil
j or from hunting and fishing i* a matter
|of great difficulty. Those who are kept
I in prison and sentenced to hard labor are
employed in mines, mills, foundries or
I on the public roads. Many of them wear
| chains, which extend from a girdlo
around the waist to each ankle, and es
. formally preclude the possibility of run
' ning away. Their life is a hard one, as
; their food is coarse and often limited in
; quantity. It is bad enough under kind
le arted overseers and Superintendents,
and terrible where the masters are cruel,
which happens altogether too often.
Twenty-one barrels of flour are used
| daily in making bread for the 1,500 cor.-
! view in Sing Sing Prison.
Terms. $1,50 per Annm Single Copy 5 cents.
MAMMA’S KISS
A kiss when I wake In the morning.
A kiss when I go to bed,
A kiss when I burn my finger*,
A kiss when I bump my heed.
A kiss when my bath Is over,
A kiss when my bath begins;
My mother’s as full of klsaee
As nurse is full of pins.
A kiss when I play with my rsttl*.
A kiss when I pull her hair;
She covered me over with kisses
The day that I fell down stair*
A kiss when I give her trouble,
A kiss when I give her joy;
There's nothing like mother's kisses
To her own little baby boy.
HUMOR OF THE DAT.
There is no place like home, especial
ly if it’s the home of your best girl.—St.
Pa u l Herald.
There arc three kinds of animals in tho
Wall street menagerie. They are bulls,
bears and donkeys.— Picayune.
A citizen of Deadwood, Dakota,
reached home the other night somewhat
earlier than usual. He had been chased
home by a ghost. Chicago News.
A poet asks: “What is it makes the
noonday air so strong?” Well, perhaps
the wife has been boiling cabbage or
someth'ng like that.— Yonkers State *»
man. q
‘ ‘Shall I light the gas?” asked the land
lady at the supper table. “Ob, it isn t
necessary,” answered the new boarder,
“the supper is light enough.” —New
York Sun.
Said George: “On my mind there’s a weight;
It is really getting quite leight.
And I fear that your pa ” waM
He got only thus far, v
For he landed outside of the geighh
—Life. '
A man never more fully appreciates
the touching significance of a “vacant
chair” than when he goes in a hurry to
the barber shop and finds one awaiting
him there.— St. Albans Messenger.
This is the season that inspires a red
nosed man with confidence' He can
blame the warmth of color on the
weather, and those who don't know his
habits will sometimes believe him.—
Philadelphia Herald.
A Swiss law compels every uewly-mar
ried couple to plant trees shortly after
the ceremony of marriage. The. pine
and the weeping willow are prescribed,
but tho birch is allowed as being proa
pectively useful.— Providence Telegram.
Full many a maid who faints at sight of
blood,
And dare not kill a mouse, nor face a toad:
Wears on her hat—more eloquent than
words. -
The mangled forms of half a dozen birds.
— Vanillic Breeze.
A Real Cowboy.
Walking into a neat, little restaurant
down on State street the other night,
the Chicago Mail's “Club Man” was
somewhat astonished to see about a
dozen dirty-faced gamins sitting at a
long table discussing an excellent sup
per, and at the head of the table sat a
Western looking, happy fellow, with all
the appearance of an ideal cowboy, ex
cept the sombrero, and that hung on a
hook near by—a regular stunner, with
width enough for a small umbrella, and
a wealth of silver tinsel on it. Investi
gating, the “Club Man” discovered that
the cowboy, who had come in with a
train of cattlo from Fettermen, Wyo ,
on the Chicago <fe Northwestern, a few
days ago, had been paid off and was en
joying himself. The proprietor of tho
restaurant said he came in about half an
hour before, followed by the troop of
Arabs, and had negotiated for supper for
the gang. He had given carte blanche to
the boys, and they had ordered every
thing from fried oysters to a hot mince
pic, and the cowboy had deposited a S2O
gold niece in advance. He didn’t seem
to be drinking. but unusually
good natured and intelligent. He
was telling the boys big stories about the
mountains, plains and sunshine of the
West, of cattle drives and stampedes.and
the boys were listening and eating with
an earnestness which was refreshing.
Their host didn't seem to pay apecial at
tention to any one in the room except his
guests, and presided at the banquet with
as much dignity and self-possession as if
he were the major-domo of a palace.
Among the things he mentioned was the
fact that last summer, a year ago, he had
become acquainted in Wyoming with a
great painter, who waa also a poet, and
who had been out there to make sketches
for a big Western picture he was going
to paint. Then, in a quiet and quaint
way. he recitod to tho boy* a cowboy
poem which the poet-painter had writ
ten, and which had this refrain:
“With his slouch sombrero
And brown chapararas
And clinking spur*
I.ike a centaur he speeds
Where the wild bull feeds.
And he langhs. Hat hat Who caret I Who
career’
A questionable Exit.
“Pay, Joe, did the editor accept your
| poem on ‘Beautiful Snow?’ ”
j “No, Charlie. I went into the office
;on tip toe ”
“Well that was right. An editor
: doesn't like to be disturbed. You showed
l him the poem!”
“I read it to him.”
“And he declined it?”
I “Ye*”
“it must have been execrable.”
“Well, maybe it was. 1 left the office
on tip-toe.
“Which was right.”
“I am not sure about that. I went ou7
on the tip of his toe. ” Call. _
T here are 140 farms reported on the Last
Hill Reservation, Idaho, conducted by
Indian!. Thev have nearly 1,000 acres
under cultivation and own thirty-aeven
mowers and two reaper* bought with
their own money. _