Richmond Opinion. (Richmond, Tex.), No. 10, Ed. 1 Friday, September 18, 1885 Page: 1 of 4
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3. H. WALFORB, Publisher
RICHMOND, FORT BEND COUNTY, TEXAS, SEPTEMBER 18.1885
Orange Growing In Floulrto.
Corroapoijilonco of the New York Sus .
"How long docs it take an orange
grove to come into bearing?" Tbn
question was asked by a northern
man in an earnest, deliberate way,
that was intended to evoke a candid
I'eply frorfl the orange grower to whom
it was put.
"How long is a piece of string?" re-
turned the orange grower.
If he had bgen disposed to 'attempt
an answer he might have said truth-
fully that an oronge grove will "come
into bearing" in from six months to
15 or 20 years from the time of start-
ing it, and that whether "the interval
• is half a year or a fifth of a century
depends almost wholly upon the tvish
of the owner.
There is a colored man in this town
who has in his grove a number of trees
whose topmost leaf is less than 18
inches above the ground, and whope ti-
ny branches are now weighed down by
young fruit. Their trunks are about
half an inch in diameter. Kneeling
down over one of these miniature
trees, bo as to have his subject well in
hand, he said:—
_ "This tree is a sweet bud on a na-
tive st<yn. The sour st em was set out
here a year ago last spring. It was a
sprout one or two years old when I
took it from the nursery. I don't
know which. The bud was put in last
September. In March the tree was so
full of bloom that it looked like a bou-
quet. The life of a tree is counted
from the time it was put in the ground
—whether as a seed or a sprout—if it
is a sweet tree, and from the time of
putting in the buds if a sour tree. So
you see here a tree that was in bloom,
or 'in bearing,' when it was six mouths
old."
Within half a mile of this colored
man's grove is a grove in which are 50
or 60 sweet seedling trees that are 13
years old. The largest of them are
about 15 feet tall, with tops lOfeet in
diameter and trunks 1<3 inches in
circumference. Only one of them
has ever borne a blossom, and that
one now has four oranges on it—its
first crop. This grove has never been
properly tended, and has had no fer-
tilizer worth mentioning put on it.
An orange grower of considerable ex-
perience said: "A sweet bud cut from
a bearing tree may have within itself
'the germ and potency' of twigs that
will straightway bear blossoms, or it
may not be such a bud. In the former
case the twigs and the blossoms are
bound to come out if the bud can be
kept alive. If it could be kept alive
inserted in the cork of a bottle I don't
know but it would be possible to show
a beer bottle bearing a full crop of
young oranges within six months after
it left the breweiy. Now, if the ro^ts
of the sour tree are sufficient to sup-
ply nutriment in the necessary quan-
tity to the youngbud the little oranges
may stay on and ripen, otherwise tlicv
will fall off. If the oranges oil the col-
ored man's six months' old bud don't
drop off pretty soon the tree itself will
drop off. The probabilities are that
that tree, if allowed to have its own
way, will drop its fruit for three or
four years, and will then begin to ripen
half a dozen oranges a year, growing
less new wood each year, and finally
standing still a stunted shrub that
will bear maybe 50 or 60 oranges at a
crop.
"Now about the big, sweet seedlings
that have not begun to bear," the or-
ange man went o'n. "They are an ex-
treme case, as much as the colorod
man's half-year-old bearing grove is.
They have been growing under the
temporary disadvantage of almost, en-
tire neglect. Fortunately the soil had
enough in it to keep them alive and
making healthy wood, though slowly.
Maybe next year, and maybe not till
three or four years later they will
show bloom. The first crop ought to
be, perhaps 100 oranges to the tree,
the second close to 500, and the third
fully 1,000. If the colored man had
planted a sweet seed at the same time
ne put the bud in his sour stem that
is now 'in bearing,' as they say, the
probability is that he would have got
a profitable treo from the seed as soon
as from the bud, in casethe bud didn't
begin bearing so early as to prevent it
ever making a valuable tree.
"How soon would I expect to havea
grove that would pay for taking care of
itself and return a satisfactory profit
on the.investment if I began making it
now? Well, in 10 years—provided
oranges brought the same price then as
they bring now."
The matter of fertilizing has a good
deal to do with the growing of orangé
trees in all except the few favored spots
where the soil does not require such re-
enforcement. The. colored orange
grower mentioned in the foregoing was
unable to buy fertilizers; so hefertilized
with fish caught in the St. John's river
with a seine and drawn up. on his
mule cart. He conducted this work
after the manner of an independent and
oi' '
the smootb yel
ling, "is seven years old from the seed,
ana was raised on shad. Not a bit of
fertilizer but fish, and not a fish but
shad has ever been put on it. I al-
ways boil jip the fish. Then I care-
fully dig away the earth, buiy the
boiled meat on the fine roots and ¿ov-
er it with eartn. The liquid I use for
watering the roots. This shad tree
has 2,000 young oranges on it. Over
there is a mullet tree. You see it has
three trunks separating about eight
inches from the gropnd. They were
three little trees, standing several inch-
es apart, and I drew the bodies to-
gether with my finger add put a wire
around them. You can just see a seam
in the bark where it has joined. The
trunk must be about nine Inches
through at the bottom, I reckon. Just
beyond is a three-year-old bud I am
raising on catfish, and those little nur-
sery trees an led on chowder mad* oi
all kind —«had, mullet, catfish, bass,
perch, shiners, trout, and everything.
IdOn't gueee tbe kind of ' "
• ¡ to do with the fiar_.
fruit
REMINISCENCES OF GRANT.
"•sincaville (Ga.) duHpntch t > New York
Times.
•lie was the truest as well as the
avest man that ever livud," was the
nark made by General James Long-
feet, when lie recovered from the
emotion caused by the sad news of
General Grant's death. General Long-
street lives in a two story house of
modern style about three miles from
Gainesville, ivhere, amid his vines and
shrubs, he wasseenby the Times corre-
spondent. He was dressed in a long
and many colored dressing gown; his
white whiskers were trimmed after the
f>attern of Burnside's, and he looked
ittle like the stalwart figure which
was ever in the thickest of the fight
during the bloody battles of the late
war.
"Ever since 1839," said he, "I have
been on terms of the closest intimacy
with Grant. I well remember the frag-
ile form which answered to his
name in that year. His distinguishing
trait as a cadet was a girlish modesty;
a hesitancy in presenting his own
claims; a taciturnity born of his mod-
esty; but a thoroughness in the accom-
plishment of whatever task was as-
signed him. As I was of large and ro-
bust physique I was at the head of
most larks and games. But in these
young Grant never joined because of
his delicate frame. In horsemanship,
however, lie was noted as the most
proficient in the academy. In fact,
rider and horse held together lik the-
the fabled centaur. In 18-42 I was at-
tached to the Fourth Infantry as sec-
ond lieutenant. A year later Grant
joined the same regiment, stationed
in that year at Fort Jefferson* 12
miles from St. Louis. The ties thus
fornted have never been broken; but
there was acharm which held us to-
gether of which the world has
never heard. My kinsman, Mr.
Frederick Dent, was a substantial
former living ' near Fort Jeffer-
lon. „ He had a liking for army
ifficers, due to the fact that his son
vas a pupil at West Point. Onedayl
■eceived an invitation to visit his
louse in order to meet young Fred,
who had just returned, and I asked
Grant to go with me. This he did, and
of course was introduced to the family,
tine last one to come in being Miss
Julia Dent, the charming daughter of
our host. It is needless to say that
we saw but little of Grant during the
rest of our visit. He paid court, in
fact, with such assiduity as to give
rise to ttmkopethat he had forever got-
ten ovegfthis diffidence. Five years
later,,J#':1848, after the usual uncer-
iaintieftof a soldier's courtship,Grant
returned and claimed Miss Dent as his
brid¿ I had been married just six
months at that time and my wife and
I were guests at the wedding.
"In 1844 the Fourth Regiment was
ordered to Louisiana to form part of
the army of observation. Still later
we formed part of the army of occupa-
tion in Corpus Christi, Texas. Here,
removed from all society withoutbooks
or papers, we had an excellent
opportunity of studying each other.
I and every .one else always found
Grant resolute and doing his duty in a
simple manner. His honor was never
suspected, his friendships were true,
his hatred of guile was pronounced, and
his detestation of tale bearers was, I
may say, absolute. The soul ofhofior
himself, he never even suspected others
either then or years afterward. He
could not bring himself to look upon
the rascally side of human nature.
While we remained in Corpus Christi an
incident illustrating Grant's skill and
fearlessness as a horseman occurred.
The Mexicans were in the habit of
bringing in wild horses, which they
would sell for ?52 or $3. These horses
came near cost ing more than one officer
his life. One day a particularly furious
animal wq,s brought in. Every officer
in the camp had declinefl to purchase
the animafexcept Grant, who declarer!
that he would either break the horse's
neck or his own. He had the horse
blindfolded, bridled and saddled, and
when firmly in the saddle he threw off
the blind, sunk his spurs into the
horse's flanks, and was soon out of
eight. For three hours he rode the
animal over, all kinds of ground,
through field and stream, and when
horse and rider returned to camp the
horse was thoroughly tamed. For
wars afterward t he story of Grant's
"Vie was related at every camp fire in
•ne country.
"During the Mexican war we were
•eparated, Grant having been made
quartermaster of the Fourth regi-
ment, while I was assigned to duty as
adjutant of the Eighth. At the battle
Of Molino del Rey, however, I had oc-
casion to fiotice his superb courage
and coolness under fire. So noticeable
was his bearing that his gallantry was
alluded to in tjie official reports.
"During the* war my immediate com-
mand had engaged the troops of Grant
but once—at the battle of the Wilder-
nsss. We came into no sort of per-
sonal relations, however. In the
spring of 1865, one day, while await-
ing a letter from General Grant, Gen-
eral Lee said to me, 'There is nothing
ahead of us but to surrender.' It was
aspne of the commissioners appointed
to arrange the terms of peace that I
met General Grant at Appomattox.
His whole greeting and conduct tow-
ard us Was as though nothing had ev-
er happened tomar our pleasant rela-
tions. In 1866 I had occasion to vis-
it Washington on business; and while
there made a call of courtesy on Gen-
eral Grant at his office. As I arose to
leave ho followed me out into
the hallway, and asked me to
spend an evening with his family. I
thanked him, promising compliance,
and passed a most enjoyable evening.
When leaving, Grant again occompan-
«1 me into the hallway and said,
"General, would you lik* to have /ut
amnesty?" Wholly unprepared for
this, I replied that I would like to
have it, but had no hope of getting it.
He toki ine to write out my applica-
tion and to call at his offiee at noon
the next day. and In the meantime be
——-?e President Johnson and
of War Stanton on my be-
1 called he had already
those men, and assured me that
not an obstacle in the way.
that it be granted as a special person*
al favor to himself. In the January
before he was inaugurated President,
for the first time I paid him a passing
friendly visit. He then said to me:
'Longstreet I want you to come and
see me after I am inaugurated, and let
me know what you want.' After the
inauguration I was walking up the av-
enue'one day to see him, when I met
a friend who informed me that the
President had sent in my name
for confirmation as surveyor of
the port of New Orleans. For sev-
eral weeks the nomination hung in the
senate, when I went to Grant and beg-
ged him to withdraw the nomination,
as I did not want his personal friend-
ship for me to embarrass his admin-
istration. 'Give yourself no uneasi-
tiess about that, he said;'the sena-
tors have as many favors to ask of me
as I have of them, and I will Bee that
you are confirmed.'
"From what I have already told
you," said General Longstreet, in con-
clusion, "it will be seen that Grant
was a modest man, a simple man, a
man believing in the honesty of his fel-
lows, true to his friends, faithful to
traditions and of great personal hon-
or. When the United States district
court in Richmond was about to in-
dict General Lee and myself for trea-
son, General Grant interposed and
said: 'I have pledged my word for
their safety.' This stopped the whole-
sale indictments of ex-Confederate
officers which would have followed.
He was thoroughly magnanimous,
was above all petty things and small
ideas, and, after Washington, was the
highest type of manhood America has
produced.
♦ mm
A New England Ghost Story.
The inhabitants of Seymour, Conn.,
and vicinity are much exercised in
mind over the existence in that town
of a veritable haunted house, and
those who have occasion to pass the
place after nightfall do so with quick-
ened pulses and a fear that they may
see something that would cause fright
at least. It is believed that in the lit-
tle brown house where John Sullivan
and his wife were found dead last win-
ter, after having been undiscoveredfor
at least thirty-six hours, there is some
strange and terrible secret, and that
instead of its being, as some supposed,
a case of double suicide, perhaps both
Sullivan and his wife were murdered
in cold blood.
For some time past timid people
have hinted that all is not right in the
lonely little place. Two or three fam-
ilies have occupied the place since the
tragedy, and tney at once move out
and away, and are reticent as to
the causes, only saying that _ they
do not care to live there. Finally
it transpired that the first family were
annoyed by strange noises. The sec-
ond family heard all sorts of super-
natural sounds, and so did the third
family, and it would be extremely dif-
ficult now for the owner to get a ten-
ant.
Very recently a young man was rid-
ing along in company with a young
lady, when she suddenly gave a shriek
of terror and convulsively seized him
by the arm. He hastily asked her
what she meant, and as soon as she
could regain her composure she said
that she saw the form of a woman on
the roof wildly waving its hands.
Her companion tried to make her be-
lieve that there was nothing in it, but
she insisted, and still insists, that she
saw the startling specter. He made
up his mind that he would sift the
mystery to the bottom, and the next
night, in company with three or four
reliable friends, he visited the spot.
While they saw nothing, they assert
that they heard many noises that in
their opinion must be ascribed to
supernatural causes. There are but
few agnostics and but a few more op-
timists in Seymour. They are mostly
pessimists and many firm believers in
ghosts and hobgoblins. What will be
the outcome remains to be seen.
The Snapper's Triumph.
A hungry-looking and unfortunate
sea snapper, with bloodshot eyes, lay
on its back on a bench outside the
New York oyster house, on the west
side of Ninth street, below Locust,
says the Philadelphia Press! The
animal had been there for three days,
a fit object for the attention of the so-
ciety for the prevention of cruelty to
animals. A crowd of children teased
it by tickling it with sticks and throw-
ing pebbles at it, and the hapless ani-
mal rolled its eyes around as if anxious
for death to come and end its miseries.
Presently a man with long hair and
a slouch hat, accompanied by a lady
with a sage green umbrella and a yellow
dress, came ambling down the street
seeing sights. The man's eyes fell on
the snapper. "Hullo!" he exclaimed,
going up to it. "Here's a snapper!
What fun! And he borrowed the saoe-
green umbrella and poked the poor fish
in the ribs.
"The great thing about a sea-snap-
Ser," he continued, with an air of wis
om, "is its docility."
Then he adjusted, his spectacles and
stroked the animal all over, punching
it in the fat places.
Snap!
The philosopher gave a howl. His
finger was firmly grasped in the snap-
per's mouth. The snapper clinched
his teeth and the man danced. Pres-
ently the end of the finger came off and
the man, covered wtth blood, dashed
to the Pennsylvania hospital, where
the stump was trimmed and dressed,
Ho gave the name of Joseph Maalin.
said he was 90 years old and lived at
804 Locust street.
The snapper lay on the bench for
the remainder of the day. It calmly
rolled the piece of Mr. Mnglin's anat-
omy betwéen its teeth, andafterithad
ground it all up sat there chewing the
end. Tt looked happier than before
the incident and then was a humorous
twinkle in its eye. An hour after the
occurence a sad-eyed oyster-opener
came out of the saloon and pasted a
placard bearing the word "Dangerous"
over its bench. But thesnapper'e con*
tented look did not abate.
Mr. Maglinset up all night,
ally yelling with pain and i
what there was about a seas
.RTHTJK'S DEVOTION
"Elinor,", tenderly, "I have loved
you so long. Must the devotion of
years have been lavished in vain?"
The pleading acmts awoke no
answering sentigjejijb.--The fair, white
face was calm. *A faint, pitying smile
hovers around the tender curves of the
sweet mouth.
Disdain, he thinks, weife better than
such supreme indifference. "Elinor!"
What a passionate yearning is in the
low cry!
"Don't, plfla * Arthur, I almost feel
as if I must be terribly to. blame for
your suffering." _
"You to blaity^vAh, no dearest. I
could toot help loving you from the
moment when, a yduth of ys, I first
saw you in church. I said to myself
then, "Arthur Gordon, there is the one
girl in the world foryou!" From that
time forth my only happiness consist-
ed in thinking of you; planning what
I could do to giv* you pleasure. After
four years of such worship I have been
unable to movevour heart. I have
touched your* life so lightly that,
were you never to see me again, you
would not bestow upon me oneregret."
"Indeed, you wrong me," interrupt-
ed the.young lady, earnestly. "Elinor
Garrison never forgets a friend—and
who has been a truer friend to the
orphan than you, my brother?"
Gordon raised her dainty hand to
his lip with reverential gesture. "I ac-
cept the title, dear love," he said,
gravely, "If I may bot bemoreto you,
at least I will be your brother, ever
ready to care for your interests, lov-
ing you with all my might, yet hoping
for nothing in return."
A slight blush stained the pale
cheeks.
"You are too noble, Arthur, you de-
serve more. Forget me and find
another upon whom to pour out such
disinterested affection."
"The world hblds no other for me,"
he answered tenderly, a beaut iful smile
illuminating his frank countenance.
Meeting those ^ear, gray eyes, Eli-
nor felt that he was a man to be
trusted. Why could she not _irf> for
him as she desirej}? Rich, handsoiu*
upright, wh it more could aiy woman
demand? She sighed.
• • • # * • o. •
"You have heard the latest,of emiraa,
Ellie?" gayly inquired a pretty girl, as
she tossed aside her gloves prepara-
tory to spending an hour or bo with
her friend. l
"No," answeredMiss Garrison.
"Why, I thought he must have told
youtyiwiself, ao Mhm over ¿,>.-posely
to hear all about it."
"Of;whom are you speaking?" was
the qiiiet response.
"Of Arthur Gordon. His engage-
ment to a Miss Marion Hepworth, of
Boston, is just announced, watching
Elinor furtively as she answered.
The latter looked courteously in-
terested—nothing more,as she resumed
the etching which Olive Lindsey's en-
trance had interrupted.
"Youarenot mistaken, Olive?" with
a great assumption of indifference.
"Certainly not," with some spirit,
as the young lady drew a tiny package
of rick-rack from her pocket and began
to work nimbly. "Brother Frank heard
it at the club last evening. You Know,
Ellie, I never repeat a story unless
very sure of its truth."
Miss Garrisoii smiled. "I was not
doubting you, Ollie," she said sooth-
ingly. "I know you are not a bit of a
gossip." A moment later: "Have I
shown you* my new spring suit?" ad-
roitly turning the conversation.
Once fairly launched upon this fas-
cinating topic, Miss Lindsey forgot to
refer again to Gordon's engagement,
and after a half hour that seemed in-
terminable to Elinor took her leave.
"So," thought Elinor, while her red
lin curled half scornfully, "this was
the end of all thope protestations of
It was a disappointment to find
him no different from other men. Her
heart beat more rapidly at the recol-
lection of his last words:
"The world holds no other for me."
"Ah, whispered Elinor, triumphant-
ly, he loves me only. I wish Miss
Hepworth joy of her prise."
• # # • *
In a village one's private affairs are
common property. Everyone knew
of Gordon's long devotion to Miss
Garrison. All were anxious to see
how she would stand her knight's de-
sertion. j-
But none were able to read her real
feelings, though many were the sur-
mises.
* Gordon was away on business. At
the close of a fortnight he returned
and sought Elinor's house the first of
any.
Her greeting, though free from em-
barrassment and perfectly courteous,
yet had asomethingindefinable; which
struck the gentleman.
"Elinor," he said softly, and his
melodious tones thrilled the dormant
heart of the woman, "you are not like
yourself. Have y cm forgotten our part-
ing compact, little sister?" a silky
moustache touchkigthe averted cheek.
"That agreement is no longer bind-
ing!" she cried indignantly, her usual-
. ... <* " — «Do not dare
ble ardor of the man had in one mo-
meut swept away the barriers of cold-
ness and pride. Elinor Garrison knew*,
that Bhe loved. But, alas! the know-'
ledge come too late.
Walking homeward, Gordon received
so many congratulations upon his en-
gagement that he began to feel annoyed.
"Simply because I visited Elinor first,
they must need link our. names," he
muttered. "It is well she does not
hear it. I only wish it were bo," a
smile playing around his firm mouth.
"Well, when is it to be?" called Miss
Olive, saucily, as obeying a beckoning
finger, Gordon drew near her as she
sat by the open window. "Now, do
not pretend ignorance," she continued,
"for I want to hear all about her. Is
she beautiful, rich, etc?"
"I shall be better able to answer you
when I hear the fair one's name," was
the laughing reply.
"What an actor you would have
made! The lady lives in Boston,
whence a certain gentleman has just
returned.
"So, then, they have not referred to
Elinor," thought Gordon thankfully.
"I assure you, Miss Lindsey, that 1
have no idea of whom you are speak-
ing.
Olivf laughed. "Miss Hepworth, 1
believsher name is."
Atall, slim, drabish spinster rose
before Gordon's vision. His mouth
twitched, but he said nothing.
"Well," said Olive, inquiringly.
"Oh, excuse me, please; good aftet
noon," and, much to the younglady's'
surprise, the tall figure was striding
down the street.
"Manners," she grumbled, as she
closed the window.
Entering the familiar side-door, Gor-
don stepped lightly into the room he
had so lately quitted.
Elinor sprang hastily to her feet.
The traces of weening were evident.
She would have fled, but strong arms
detained her, gathering her in a close,
fervent embrace.
A truthful voice murmured tenderly:
"It was all a great mistake darling.
How could you doubt me Elinor?"
"Was it not worth while, since it
showed me my heart?" was the low re-
ply, as her Bhy, glad eyes were lifted
to meet her lover s.
Drinking: A Tear.
i Tbi passionate Hebrew metaphoi
of the beverage of tears, fouud in sev-
eral places in the Psalms, is seldom
fulfilledsliterally. But here an affect-
ing instance in real life illustrates the
sad truth that few people in this world
can do evil without making others
weep. The scene is copied from the
Arkansas Traveller:
"Boys, I won't drink without you
t<\,ke what I do,", said old Josh Spilit,
in reply to an invitation. He was a
toper of long standing and abundant
capacity, and the boys looked at him
with astonishment.
"The idea," one of them replied,
;hat you should prescribe conditions
laughable. Perhaps you want to
force one of your . abominable mix-
tures down us. You are the chief of
mixed drinkers, and I won't agree to
your conditions."
"He wants us to run in castor oil
and brandy," said the Judge, who
would have, taken the oil to.get the
brandy.
"No, I'm square. Take my drink,
and I'm with you."
The boys agreéd, and stood along
the bar. All turned to Spilit, and
looked at him with interest.
"Mr. Bar-tender," said he, "give me
a glass of water."
"What? Water!"
"Yes, water. It's anew drink to me
I admit, and^it's a scarce article, I ex-
pect. Several days ago, as a parcel of
us went fishing, we took a fine chance
of whiskey along, and had a heap of
fun. Long toward evenin' I got now-,
erful drunk, and crawled off under a
tree and went to sleep. The boys drank
up all the whiskey and came back to
town. They thought it was a good
joke 'cause they'd left me out there
drunk; and told it 'round the town
with a mighty bluster. My son got
hold of the report and told itat home.
Well, I lay under that tree all night,
and when I woke in the morning, my
wife sot thar. side of me. She said
nothin' when I woke up, but sorter
turned away her head, and I could see
she was chokin.'
" 'I wish I had suthin' to drink,"
says I. Then she took a cup wot she
had fotched with her, and went up to
whar a spring cum up, and dipped up
a cupful and fotched it tu me. Jest as
she was handin' it to me, she leant
over to hide her eyes; and I saw a tear
drpp inter the water. I tuck the
cup and drank, and raisin' my hands,
I vowed that I'd never drink my wife's
tears again, as I had been doin' for
PRESENTED AT COURT.
A Wamu'i Story of • rmHUUsi It •
Royal Dn*la| Room.
Do you think you cfcn go to a
"drawing room" without learninghow
to make a proper reverence? No, in-
deed. You must go to a cosy little
house in the West End, where a very
elegant and quaint little old French
lady will show you all you have to do
for a guinea a lesson, and then on the
afternoon before the great day you go
to see the lady who is to present you
to get the important tickets, and to
receive explicit instructions astoyour
line of conduct, for, as the lady belongs
to the diplomatic circle, she will be in
tile room with her royal highness, and
you must enter alone. At her house
you meet some gentlemen, and one
tells you that when he was presented
was the only moment in his life that he
has known what fear was, and that he
ly gentle eyes flashing. "1
to touch me, Mr. Golden."
Excitement lent an additional charm
to the mobile face. Oorden gazed at
hjr admiringly. His love, restrained
for years, would no more brook con-
trol. In an ecstacy of longing he caught
her in his arma and kissed her madly,
ofer and or —**" - ' " *
the beloved
desist
forgive you," she pant-
omnim—"never!" tears
down; "Leave me!"
dons? I have lost her
_/'thought he re-
'efc the bliss of that su-
preme lni
dose to
than
I wilt
<d, brea!
rolli
i again,
the last twenty ^ears, and that I was
going to stop
was that left
ou boys know who it
me. You was all in the
ive me another glass of water, Mr.
Bartender."
igo nvrftiti.
talking about cheeky reporters,"
Gen.Logan one day last spring
Springfield, "I think the Chicago
Cheeky Reportera.
Chicago Herald.
"Talkini
said
at Springfield, "I think the Chicago
reporter is at the head of his class.
One night Mrs. Logan and myself had
retiren to our room in a Chicago hotel,
when a reporter sent up his card. Of
course I would not see him. He sent
back a note, saying it was an urgent
cas& and begging me to see nim.
Again I refused. Ten minutes later I
„ was just dozing off to sleep, when Mrs.
arma and kissed her madly, Logan heard a rapping at the door,
ovfr, Until .the Scarlet hue ol , ndcalled me. I called, 'Who's there?'
ed ooun tenace warned him to and heard in response, 'A telegram.'
As I was expecting an important mes-
sage, I went to the door, and there,
with the messenger boy, stood the re-
porter. 'Now, General,' he said
' t rrfE®
^ 3 .'•>
ISS- ■: ■ M
KM r
•y
•sf'J
•since this pesicy telegram has called
you out of bed, won't you oblige me
with a little talk? And at that he
pushed his way into my room and sat
tlown. I admired the man's cheek,
sat down and talked with him.
was burning low, and, as he
to take some notes, he reach-
and turned it on. Then be die-
Mrs. Logan was hi the
i , him? Not Mt.
lUrtlt a mAO liki thit.
WWJ* "VW " "" * WW
: '•
S
was in agony lest he should trip over
his sword, and you think of your
three or four yards of train, «n| you
you
.ras of
it will be muoh worse
And another tells
i a sword. And another tells you
. the young ladies usually are white
trembling with fear, and that often
are sure that
than a sword.
that
and trem
they make a terrible fiasco; they tell
you of one poor unfortunate, who, in-
stead of kissing thequeen'S hand when
it was extended to her, shook it vigor-
ously, then realizing, what she had
done, lost her head completely, and,
forgetting all the great line of person-
ages, turned her back and incontinent-
ly fled.
By the time you leave your instruct-
ress' house, you are trembling in every
limb, and you spend all the rest of the
evening making courtesies to the chairs
and sofas, and fervently hoping that
you may not disgrace your country
on the morrow.
Your landlord's daughter devotes
herself to you for the next day, and
makes thj most helpful and obi
of little dressing-maids, and at last
you are ready, all pearls, lace and
shining silk. It is quite a longdriveto
the park, but suddenly you see the
Horse Guards and then you know you
have arrived, and inside the gatee
you find hundreds and hundreds
of people waiting to see the car-
riages pass and standing on tiptoe to
catch a glimpse of you. All the way
up the long arive the Horse Guards, in
their long plumes and brilliant scariet,
are stationed at right and left, and in-
side the palace gates is a lona row of
horsemen standing close together, and
you alight to the sound of martial
music. When you have left your wrap
in a room near the entrance you go'ur
a very grand stairway, past men wit!
spears call'' Beef-eaters," dressed in red'
and yellow; you hand one of your
tickets to the queen's page, ana are
ushered with a great many ladies into
a huge room, all red and gold, and
there you sit for quite a long time gaz-
ing at the lovely views of the park
through the wide windows, and study-
ing the dresses.
As you pass the door to the presence
chamber you drop your train fi;om
your arm, and the two chamberlains
—or whatever the;
and
length
the door óf the throne room some one
takes yo'ir second card; and then you
hear the lord ciiumbcr'.ain pronounc-
ing your name in a very loud voice,
and now you are bowing to the
princess, you wish the ladies behind
you would not come quite so fast, for
you feel hurried and areconscious you
are not making your reverence the way
VOL m io.
hallelujah chorus from att
* iim and cherubim. Thet
melius March," by
on this superb organ, {d
brillfent performer, can be'i
imagined than C
Deaths of Distinguished Mbit.
The Boston tgprald has col!
counts of the deaths of several
men which arepeculiarly intereetingat
this time.
Napoleon I. died of a cancer in the
stomach. He underwent all the rise
fall of health and hope, depression
despair which have Marked Gi
illness. But the cancer, being in
stomach, caused much severer pate
than Grant's. Toward the last be
could not digest his food. He was
mented by a constant thirst.
pulse beat with feverifllquickneee.
wae fully aware of his fate.
monarchs who persecute me," he said,
"may sst their minds at rest. I shall
soon remove all cause for fear." Hie
days were almost
of pain, to vomit!
r arm, and tne two cnamoeriains
whatever they arc called—quickly
deftly straighten it to its full
th as yon walk slowly forward, at
Írou were taught; you courtesy to the
adies next the princess: but how many
there are, or what they look like, you
haven't the least idea;you see the prmco
quite distinctly, and you walk sideways
and make a series of little diminish-
ing bows to the row of dukes or prin
ces or whatever they may be, but of
them you retain not the faintest im
press ion. Suddenly you feel your
train hustled on to your arm, for in
your confusion you have forgotten to
hold your arm.out properly, and the
great deed is done! It has lasted in all
about fifteen seconds; you haven't
seen anything very distinctly, and you
retain only one idea, that her royal
highness was dressed in light yellow'
but you have been presented at court,
and surely ought to be satisfied. The
next day your name appears in the
Coiirt Circular.—Christian Union.
A Thundering Rig Organ.
Letter in Ban Francisco Alta.
The organ has 2,704 pipes and fifty
seven stops. Some of the pipes are
thirty-two feet long and large enough
to admit the bodies of three men,
the towers that rise on either side are
forty-eight feet high, with a niche left
between them for the Goddess of Mu-
sic. This immense temple of music,
which is nearly as large as a cottage,
is elaborately carved by hand.
It is impossible to estimate the cost
of it, as it was built in early days,
when freighting was done by ox
teams across tne plains, and many of
the workmen only received provisions
for their labor. But they are a people
who will not be outdone, and when the
Episcopal Church built their beautiful
organ here the Mormons at once be-
gan to improve theirs, which was all
show and framework, and have
already expended (10,000 on it,
Sitting in that vast auditorium, 800
feet long by 160 wide, where the acous-
tics are so perfect you can hear a pin
drop from one end to the other, amid
the cool and silence and solemnity of
the vast amphitheater—for it is circu-
lar in its formation, with th
dious, shythmical, silver-toned strains
of that powerful oigan, undertbemas-
ter band, one is «salted
being, and feel, as I in
when brought to face the
When
r>- a ■ m
voice in a minor
and one
ofjtloet
•tart—so
a this v
•tall,
ven over to spasms
>t pain, to vomiting and intolerable
hirst. During the intervals of
hs would talk ooeassionaUy.
he was goingto meet htssul
gañerais. "They will expert*
afore the' intoxication ol
Beeaid
subordinate
experience ones
the intoxication of human
We shall talk of what we have
lone with Frederick, Csesar and Han-
nibal, unless," he added with a pe-
culiar smile after a pauses "unices there
should be as great an objection in the
upper spheres as there is here below to
see a number of soldiers together."
On the 3d of May he became delirious,
and amid his ravings thess words were
distinguishable. "My son. The army.
Desaix." His sufferings contiaednntil
almost the last moment when he eusk
into unconsciousness. The day before .
the death of Frederick the great, al-
though feeble and confined to hie bed,
he went through with all his cabinet
work, dictating to his clerks ulsailv
and intelligently, but with, feebw
voice. The next day was spsnt in
a stupor and occasional
of the eyes. He knew,
ever, of his condition,
what the doctors had said about him.
In the night he asked what o'clock ifc
was, said he should rise at 4, told an
attendant to throw a quilt over i
V
/•3Í
er the
We shall be better now." This
his last speech and two hours after hs
was dead.
Oliver Cromwell struggled
last illness for ten days. Tow/
last he was heard to say among
things: "I think'I am the
wretch that livee; . „
rather, am beloved of God. I am •
conqueror, and more than
or, through Christ that
me." But most of the time he
speechless.
Blucher, who saved W<
Waterloo, said to the Kfng of!
who visited him during his last Ulnei^
i
ban a coufrnsr-
strengthened
"I know I shall die.
for it, seeing that I
any use."
not sony
longer of
General Grant's Last l
At the annual meeting of the Baa*
itary and Christian commissions, ai
Occan Grove, August 2,1884, General
Grant was present. He was ixitrodno*
ed to the large audience and Said:
"Ladies and Gentlemen! Under afl
circumstances it is a difficult matter
for me to speak, and how muchmoe
difficult under the present circum-
stances. An hour ago I might have
said something about the B
and Christian commissions.
nessed the good done. Th
great deal by way of con
writing letters to friends at non
the sick and wounded, and found 1
their dead were buried. I hopo ,
are all having a good time hare,,
day. I appreciate • * *
the voice of the great get
hushed in sobs, ana he
chair weeping profusely. He Wl
a great sufferer from the brohanf
of his leg, and the financial er
Wall street, which had just swe
all of his life's savings and L
his good name, over which he \
sensitive, and this his first
greeting since his calamities s
much for the manly heart to j
without teare of gratitude,
the only time the "nero of
ties" was known to shed tc
an audience though often
speak. The audience wept likw
and for some moments suence 1
over the vast aesembl;
This was General ü. i
speech before a large publie <
It will be remembered by
for years to come.
Tasted of the Stai
1 like to talk with boys
years of age and get tl
their reminiscences. By bo)
those hearty old fellows
their hair has tamed
much young blood in
'they had when tk
twenty. "I suppt
heard of old Farmer
of these jolly ]
"He was a
you know.
ws all went to i
Farmer Allen
mand. Onef
clamba .
barrel of
I, too.
Miv'
AtW flL
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Walford, J. H. Richmond Opinion. (Richmond, Tex.), No. 10, Ed. 1 Friday, September 18, 1885, newspaper, September 18, 1885; (https://texashistory.unt.edu/ark:/67531/metapth179344/m1/1/: accessed April 23, 2024), University of North Texas Libraries, The Portal to Texas History, https://texashistory.unt.edu; crediting The Dolph Briscoe Center for American History.