Denison Daily News. (Denison, Tex.), Vol. 7, No. 20, Ed. 1 Sunday, March 16, 1879 Page: 4 of 8
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1
Baby Mluc.
Tour papa ha none away,
Buby mine, baby mine,
For how long I oan not say,
ISaby initio, baby uilne;
He'u bound to ootuu homo nick.
With Ills llptt by (ar too thick
To say any thing but (hlo),
Baby uilne, baby mine.
Uu'a a queer compound of clay,
liaby mine, baby mine,
That dad ot yours, I ay,
Haby mine, baby mine.
When I auk with tearful eye
Where he's been, my heart boats high
As he answers, " What d'ye sole?"
liaby mine, baby mine.
If you ever prove to be,
Haby mine, baby mine,
So vile a wretch us he,
Ilaby mine, baby mine,
I'll " ring " you through your nose,
Paint you green from head to toes,
Then I'll pawn you for old clothes,
Baby mine, baby mine.
Couie close to me and stay,
Ilaby mine, baby mine,
Listen what your dad will say,
Baby mine, baby mine.
He's trying to unlock the door,
Now he's through and on the floor;
Gracious me, Just hear him snore I
Baby mine, baby mine.
We can't leave him in that lump,
Baby mine, baby mine,
Tickle his nose and see him Jump,
Baby mine, baby mine.
Over this I'll throw a screen,
But if agaiu he drunk is seen,
I'll " paralyze " his machine,
Baby mine, baby mine.
—Atlanta Constitution.
The Two Wishers.
Out in the street, this winter's day,
A brawny man is shoveling snow;
Steadily there he works away
With muscular arms and face aglow,
Glad to earn a pittance for pay,
Shoveling off the snow.
Unto eyes that can only see
The tangible outward, here is one
Who suffers the stings of poverty,
Who wearily drudges Irom sun to sun,
Whose shackled hours are never free,
Whose work is never done.
For ragged he is, and scantily clad,
And one would be willing to hazard the
guess
That meat and bread are not to be had
By him and his inplenteousness;
Jfoi all his life he has shoveled through
The drifts of want and distress.
Yet a keener vision might detect
Some priceless things which belong to
him:
Muscles of Iron, a form erect,
An eye that is never glazed or dim,
And the rich, hot blood of perfect health
Coursing through body and limb.
Now, across the street from theahoveler
stands
A stately mansion, built of stone,
And there, In the window,with folded hands,
a pale-faced man looks out alone-
Looks out at the laborer over the way,
At the snow his shovel has thrown.
Kxotic plants in the window bloom,
Shut in by curtains of finest lace,
And scattered about the spacious room
Are all things which bcllt the place;
A poor man might subsist a year
On the cost of that Sevres vase.
Keating a moment, the shoveler sees
The face in the window across the street
And he thinks: "Could I live like that at
my ease,
With nothing to do and plenty to eat,
With money and servants and all at com-
mand,
Then surely would life bo sweet I"
And he wearily sighs as ho turns again
To the work unfinished that waits his
hands;
But his sigh Is echoed in sharper pain
By him who has called It forth,who stands
Watching the laborer, while he thinks:
" Houses and money and lands—
• All that I have of power or wealth—
I would freely give if I could but know
The rarer riches of strength and health;
Yes, all on the laborer there I'd bestow,
If I, like him, could go out in the street,
And shovel off tlio snow!"
THE CONVICT'S SISTER.
441 have told you there is a secret in
my life I cau share with no one. Let
me go my way and you yours, for we
could never be happy with a cloud of
mystery between us."
44 In other words, you refuse me!"
There was a quick resentment in Al-
fred Graves's tones,for the refusal of the
woman he loved to be his wife was a
blow at once to his heart and hisvacity.
He was not a conceited man, but when
he offered his hand to his sister's gov-
erness he certainiy did not expect a re-
fusal. There had been many meetings
before he spoke, and in some of them he
had thought Hester Stretton's face be-
trayed her love for him, in spite of the
oold manner that was habitual to her.
Scarcely a man to measure his own
merits by the length of his purse, Al-
fred Graves could not quite forget that
he was owner of a fine estate in the
country, several houses in town and five
thou Band a year, while Hester Stretton
was his sister's governess. She had
come to Mrs. Evans from a female sem-
inary, with letters of introduction; had
proved herself trustworthy with the chil-
dren • and no one had any desire to pry
into her private affairs during the whole
of the first two years.
Mrs. Evans considered her a treasure,
and the children were much attached to
her and progressed rapidly.
Then Alfred came back from abroad,
and his sister, offering him the hospital-
ity of her house at Guildford, suddenly
made several discoveries. First, she
found out that although the family had
thought and spoken of her brother as an
old bachelor, after all, at 40 he looked
younger than some men under 30. Next
that Hester Stretton, though she was
reserved, was wonderiully fair, and
ooald converse with Alfred long after
the topics were quite beyond the elder
lady's comprehensio i.
The old, old story progressed, day af-
ter day, and she could find nr.good rea-
reason for sending Hester away, and
■nrely Alfred was not to be turned away
from her house. Mrs. Evans was con-
stantly devising schemes for shutting:
Hester iu the school-room, for sending
her long errands and employing her
time in needlework. But it Alfred
would lounge into the school-rooom and
insist upon bearing his nephews and
nieoes recite long poems while he made
pencil sketches of Hester's profile; if he
would join her just as she started on
the long errands, and was seized with a
desire to road in the very room where
the needlework was in progress, what
could a prudent sister do more?
It was some comfort that the "infat-
uation," as Mrs. Evans mentally term-
ed it, was all on one side; that the pale
face never Hushed at his coming or the
soft, dark orbs wooed him to her side.
But Mrs. Evans could not believe it pos-
sible for Alfred to offer his hand and
fortune to any woman and be rejected.
So she fretted secretly, while Alfred
wooed patiently, till on the summer
morning when he found Hester in the
garden, for a wonder, free from the at-
tendance of a juvenile Evans, and made
his declaration in explicit terms.
And without one flush on her white
cheeks—if possible, even paler than
usual, Miss Stretton had told him there
was a secret in her life that kept her
outside the ranks of happy married
women. Still he pleaded, still she own-
ed it was no crime or fault of her own
that separated them; and again he urg-
ed his suit only to meet the repetition
of her declaration.
44 In other words, you refuse me," he
said, with angry emphasis.
The color flushed then over Hester's
face, for there was keen pain as well as
resentment in Alfred's tone. For the
first time she touched his arm, lifting
her soft, dark orbs to his own. There
was a thrill in her voice as she said,
steadily but in low tones, "Because I
love you, Alfred. If I had no affection
for you I would put my hand in yours
and share your wealth, for my life of
drudgery is a weary burden to me. But
I love you, and so I bid you go from me
and seek to forget me in a happier
smile."
Something in her tone and face awed
her lover from any demonstration of
pleasure at her frank confession. He
prisoned the little white hand she had
placed upon his arm and said: 44 Con-
fide in me, then. Tell me your secret,
or, if you will, keep it, and rest assured
I will never try to surprise it."
441 can not. Nothing but death can
free me, and your life is too useful, too
noble, to be spent in waiting for me.
Forget me, Alfred."
She was gone before he conld say
more, and he knew her decision was
final. Mrs. Evans's delight at her
brother's escape was certainly temper-
ed by indignation that Hester had dared
refuse him.
44 Whom on earth did she expect to
marry?" the matron thought.
But Hester, pondering over it all, ac-
cepted the pain as one more sorrow in
her shadowed life, and made no moan,
looked for no sympathy.
It was hard to see the face that had
been ever full of sympathy and tender-
ness turned coldly away; hard to hear
the children wonder 14 why Uncle Alfred
never came to see them anymore;"
but the routine of duty filled each day,
and there was a certainty soon of re-
lease from the monotony of teaching.
October was midway on her golden-
tinted journey across the earth when
Mrs. Evans was called upon to find a
new governess. In vain she scolded
and even wept. Hester gave no reason,
but she must go.
It was not to spy upon her movements
that Alfred, finding the governess leav-
ing the house, followed her in the train
that took her to London. It was only
in his deep, unshaken affection, the fear
for her future, the anxiety to be sure all
was to be well with her in her new life.
She did not dream she was watched
as she took a cab, and, followed still,
drove to a small house on the outskirts
of Kentish Town, where an elderly
woman met her at the door and led her
in, weeping bitterly.
That was all Alfred saw; but the face
of the weeping woman was Hester's
face, should years of sorrow and tears
set their seal upon it.
Restless and curious, in spite of him-
self, Alfred lounged into a refreshment
place near the little house and called for
something to eat. Close beside him two
officers of police (inspectors they seem-
ed) were discussing some provisions,
and Alfred heard one say, 44 So Stret-
ton's time is up! He came out of the
Penitentiary yesterday."
44 According to my idea," was the re-
ply, 44 he ought not to have been there
at all. He never did it—never!"
"He was wild, though."
44 Yes; got on a spree too often, and
was in bad company, but never had
any more hand in that bank robbery
than you or I."
44 Got five years for it," said the oth-
er, 44 and he's come out to die. He's
over at his mother's there,'' jerking his
thumb in the direotion of the little
house, 44 and won't last a week—con-
sumption."
This was the secret, then! A brother
in Pentonville model prison, innocent
or guilty, a convicted felon! Alfred
shuddered as he thought of the fair,
stately woman he loved, with her pure,
prond nature, daily tortured by the se-
cret of her brother's crime. He had a
vague recollection of reading the trial
of some bank robiers where the name
ofStreiton occurred, but it was only a
hazy memory at best.
Hester was with her mother in a
home, even if a poor one, with crime for
its inmate, and he had no right to in-
trude upon her grief. So he ate the
food before him, paid his bill and went
out into the street again. It was quite
dark, and he gave up any idea of re-
turning to Guildford that night, finding
his way to the West End and a hotel.
Three days passod before he heard
again of Hester's brother, and then the
public journals told the story. He was
detd. Only 26, the papers said; but
there had come comfort at the last hour.
Two of the gang who had been engaged
in the bank robbery had made a sworn
statement exonerating him from any
guilty part in it. In so far as he was
under the influence of liquor, was in brd
company and was led by them, he was
guilty. But he was innocent because he
was purposely kept ignorant of their in-
tentions, and had no knowledge that he
was in a bank vault until the hands of
the officers of justice were upon him
there.
Five weary prison years, disease,
finally death, had paid the penalty of a
youth of reckless living; but the stain
of actual crime was lifted from his
memory, and the journals that had
ohronicled his trial and sentence gave
publicity to his innocence and his de-
cease.
It was no shame to Alfred's manhood
that his eyes were misty as he read the
obituary of the wasted life, touched
keenly by the closing words. 44A wid-
owed mother and sister were with Stret-
ton when he died."
Alfred could easily picture the fair,
pale face, bending over the sufferer's
pillow, and the low, tender voice com-
forting him, though his hand had
brought desolation into her own life.
In the chamber of death, where the
still face upon the pillow was peaceful
in its last sleep, Hester and her mother
kept watch together.
They had suffered most in the five
years that their lives had been separated,
for the widow had been matron in a
large hospital, while Hester worked as
governess in Mrs. Evans's family. Be-
fore her father's death there had been a
home, happy and united; but afterwards
poverty drove them upon the world.
44 Mother," Hester said, softly, 441
have saved something in these long
years, and we will settle ourselves here
and try to earn a living together."
44 Yes, dear. I took the hcuse furnish-
ed, for a month, thinking if Oliver camc
home willing to work for an honest liv-
ing, we should get on somehow. I had
saved a little, too, Hester, for him, and
he will not need it."
44Hush! You must not weep now.
Remember how happily he died, moth-
er, the stain lifted from his memory, his
heart at peace. He was ready to go,
mother. My poor brother!"
Softly the tender lips pressed the dead
man's forehead before Hester led her
mother away from the room. They had
not crossed the narrow passage to the
parlor when the door-bell rang, and
Hester opened the door, to face Alfred
Graves. ,
Before she could speak he entered,
closing the door behind him and ad-
vancing to the widow, who stood insido
the little parlor.
44 Mrs. Stretton," he said, lifting his
hat, 411 have just heard of your sorrow,
and I have come to ask you to let me
aid you in any way where a gentleman's
services may be required. I am the
brother of Mrs. Evans."
" You are very kind," the widow fal-
tered. 44 We—as you say—our
trouble "
And here the tears stifled utterance,
and she could only turn from him and
weep.
Hester lifted her eyes appealingly, to
meet Alfred's fixed upon her face.
41 There is no longer a secret between
us,Hester," he said in a low tone. 44 Will
you hot give me the right of a loving
son to comfort your mother?"
44 You know all," she said, surprised,
44 and you are here!"
441 do," he answered, gravely; 44 and
knowing your noble reason for once re-
fusing me, I am here to ask again the
question £ asked one summer morning
not 1< .ng ago. Even as I loved you then,
Hove you now. Hester, will you be my
wife?"
And she, loving him tenderly, with
the secret of her life revealed, the crime
wiped out by death, put her hand in his
and let his lips press the seal of betroth-
al on her own.
To the world Hester's secret is a secret
still. Society does not connect the tall,
stately bride of Alfred Graves with the ob-
scure convict who came from prison only
to die; and even Mrs. Evans was never
told of any myst ry or sorrow resting
upon the life of her former governess,
or the quiet widow, who shares the
Graves's mansion and finds a peaceful
hav n in her daughter's love and the re-
spectful attentions of a man who fills a
son's place to her. English Magazine.
In a closed sleeping-apartment tho
atmosphere becomes more Contaminated
every .minute, because carbonic acid
gas, a deadly poison, is generated in the
lungs and is expired at each breath, and
combining with the moisture it is
heavier than the common air, and set
ties near the floor, hence, the last thing
a man should sell is his bedstead; but
in reality it is considered by the igno-
rant and unfortunate poor as the most
indispensible thing in the house, hence
sickness is soon added to their poverty,
a most unhappy combination.
A Lucky Speculator.
John Skae—or Johnny Skae, as he is
more familiarly called—who has lately
brought himself into prominence by
trying to perform an Atlas feat with the
Sierra Nevada Mine, is a perfect sample
of the San Francisco stook-gambler. Ho
was born about 38 years ago in Wind-
sor, Canada, a small town opposite De-
troit, Mich. Having studied telegraphy,
ho came to San Francisco in search of
employment, and obtained a position in
the Western Union office, where, by
keeping his wits about him and his
tongue tied, he soon learned to profit
by the scraps of knowledge picked up
about the office. Having made consid-
erable money in stock speculations, he
invested largely in the Virginia City
Water Company, and in 1867 was able
to travel in Europe with his two sisters,
having an assured income of $16,000 a
year. He was always famous for his
good luck, and while at Baden-Baden
and Wiesbaden eclipsed the brother of
the Sultan in his heavy winnings at
rouge et ncir and roulette. It was ac-
tually sad to see the poor men lose
their last sou on the turn of a card,
while the rich young man won at every
play. He always had a penchant for
frappe wine and pretty actresses. His
never-failing good fortune made
him reckless, and his recklessness
made him a millionaire. He had
"worked" with the Flood & O'Brien
clique for a long time, and, it is said,
was looked upon by them as infallible
in his predictions regarding the rise and
fall of the mining-stock barometer. He
made a mistake, like Csssar, and has
been almost slain for his ambition. He
tried to "go it alone" in his light canoe,
unaccustomed to the great ocean of big
schemes, and, paradoxical as it may
sound, would have been swamped had
not a flood come to his assistance.
44 Help me Cassius, ere I sink," and
forthwith Flood patronizingly "took
him in out of the wet."
Johnny Skae is not an educated man,
in the usual acceptance of the term, but
is sharp-witted, a pleasant companion,
and bright as a new dollar in all busi-
ness affairs. He is rather "loud" in
dress, but refined at heart, retiring in
disposition, generous to his friends, and
a perfect father to his sisters. He makes
up his mind in a dash, and, like light-
ning, all the electricity at his command
goes with the blow. The young stock
speculators in San Francisco look upon
him as their leader, and we can safely
say, knowing his quick perception and
"nerve," that, if Jim Fisk ever has a
rival on this coast as a keen-eyed eagle
to closely watch the market and then
swoop down from his broker office and
bear off millions, that man will be our
friend Johnny Skae.—Cincinnati Sun.
Bold Bobberies.
A recent dispatch from Manchester,
N. H., says: This city and surrounding
towns are greatly excited over one of
the boldest robberies ever committed
in the State. The case is, in many re-
spects, similar to the now famous case
of Cashier Barron, of Dexter, Me. At
4 o'clock this morning (March 4) Ed-
mund R. Ingalls, Treasurer of the town
of Candia, was gagged in his house and
$3,700 stolen from hi3 safe. Mr. In-
galls had been writing on the town books
until 1 o'clock, when he blew out the
light and went to bed with his wife and
child in the front part of his house.
Soon after retiring, hearing a suspicious
noise, he got up, dressed himself and
went into the back room to investigate.
He had, he says, gone but a few steps
when the light of a dark-lantern was
flashed full in his face, and at the same
instant two men who were not masked,
but whom he thinks he can not recog-
nize, sprang out from the darkness and
bound and gagged him. They then
handcuffed him and led him to the barn,
where they tied him to a stanchion.
They left him in this position and went
to the house, where they consummated
the robbery. Mrs. Ingalls discovered
her husband in about half an hour, by
which time he was very weak. A police
officer broke the bracelets from his
wrists and he was put to bed. The
thieves obtained an entrance by boring
through the door, and took t he money
from a bureau drawer, leaving $800 un-
touched under his pillow. His gold
watch and considerable silverware were
also taken. There is as yet no clew to
the robbers, except that several persons
report hearing the sound of sleigh-bells
early this morning. The police in all
the region are busy on the case. The
sympathy of the people is entirely with
Mr. Ingalls, who has many friends.
At Fort Wayne, Ind., on March 4,
Mrs. Gerhart Burlager, an aged and
feeble woman, was all alone at her house
when two strangers called, and, secur-
ing admission upon some pretext, chlor-
oformed her and stole nearly $2,500 in
gold and silver coins which were kept
in a chest hidden in the closet. They
departed before Mrs. Burlager recover-
ed consciousness and made good-their
escape. Mr. Burlager is a scavenger,
and said to be quite wealthy. He is
known as a miser and kept his money
in his house because he was afraid of
the banks.
Ovkk 75,000 head of cattle are shut
up on the grazing range in Nebraska,
between the two forks of the Platte Riv-
er. The deep snows prevent their
reaching the grass, and some have al-
ready starved. Fears are entertained of
the loss of the entire herd.
CAKE OP THE HEALTH.
[From Hall's Journal of Iloaltli.J
The safest and best remedies in the
world are warmth, rest and abstinence.
Ventilation is perfect in proportion
as the air of an apartment is kept equal
in purity to that of tho external atmos-
phere. This is best done in pri ate
dwellings by having an open fire-place.
Nature is very much like a shiftless
child, who, the more he is helped tho
more he looks for it. The more medi-
cine a man takes the more he will have
to take, whether it bo anodyne, tonic
or alterative.
The thinnest veil or silk handkerchief
thrown over the face while riding or
walking against a cold wind is a re-
markably comfortable protection.
The most healthful form of exercise
is that which involves exhilarating out-
door activities.
Never sit or stand with the wind
blowing on you for a single moment,
for it speedily produces a chill, to be
followed with a fever and then a bad
cold.
Exercise to the extent of great fa-,
tigue does more harm than good.
A hearty meal, taken while excess-
ively fatigued, has often destroyed life.
Chilliness of body dampens the spir-
its, sours the the temper and renders the
the whole man unlovely.
A sour look, an impatient gesture, a
cross word at the breakfast-table is
enough to make the food indigestible
and spoils a day.
A good laugh is anti-dyspeptic.
The wisest men are those who aim to
live in such a way as to grow old with-
out aches or pains.
Life is warmth, growth, repair and
power to labor, and all these are de-
rived from the food we eat and the flu-
ids we drink, and these should be good.
At every period of life, at all seasons
of tho year, and from the tropics to the
poles, in every clime and country, the
temperature of the human body in
health is the same to a degree, that is,
98 of Fahrenheit, hence we should eat
in winter mainly of warming food, such
as meats, fats, oils, sugar, and all the
grains, farinas, and starches; in sum-
mer, the fruits and berries, and melons
and vegetables of tho field, the garden
and the orchard, which cool, and open,
and ventilate the system.
The best anodyne in all nature is
moderate, steady and continuous exer-
cise in the open air.
The worst cold may be promptly
cured if, within 24 hours after it has
been taken, the patient will keep warm
in bed, and oat little or nothing for a
day or two.
Never sit with the back to a window
or door, even if closed, for the air com-
ing in at crack and crevice, will cer-
j tainly give a cold.
In going out into a colder air, keep
i the mouth resolutely closed, and walk
j briskly for a few moments, thus pre-
venting chilliness, which is always the
percursor of a cold.
The portion of the body which most
requires protection against cold and
wind, is that between the shoulder-
blades behind, as it is at this point the
lungs are attached to the body, and the
blood is easily chilled.
To spend two or three moments,on ris-
ing and retiring, in rapid frictions of the
whole surface of the body with the hand
is a more rational treatment of the skin,
and a more health promoting operation,
for most persons, than a daily cold-
water bath.
A good cleansing of the entire bod y
with soap and warm water,once a week,
is all the bathing tho human system re-
quires for purposes of health, in ordina-
ry circumstances.
A Garment ol' Glass.
Tho San Francisco Chronicle says
there is now being woven in that city
the most wonderful fabric of which tho
most voluminous history of unique fem-
inine apparel furnishes any account. It
is the material, as flexible as the finest
of silk and as durable as Blue Jeans,
Williams's favorite^tuff for tiousers,for
a lady's dress, and it is being woven by
the world renowned artist in glass
work, Prof. Theodore Greiner, out of
innumerable colored strands of glass
first spun by himsolf. Compared with
the completed garment, the mythical
glass slipper of the fabulous Cinderella
will sink into as vulgar an ir signifi-
cance as an exhausted Napa soda bottle.
A Chronicle reporter called on him re-
cently and he very courteously showed
him the entire process. Breaking an
extra piece out of the soiled bottom
of an already broken tumbler he sub-
mitted it to the heat of a blow-pipe until
it became incandescent and soft. Then
with a 44 stick " of glass he touched the
molten portion, and, with an expert mo-
tion which may be described as a flip,
he carried a thread so fine that it was
almost invisible till it caught on the disc
of a slowly revolving wide wooden
wheel of 19 feet circumference. At a
certain number of revolutions the strand
was complete and the wheel was stop-
ped and it removed. It then consisted
of innumerable softly glistening
threads, finer than the finest of floss
silk. These strands are spun of all col-
ors and are then washed in a solution of
water and beet-root sugar, which tough-
ens them. The spinning is all done,
and occupied many weeks. Tho weav-
ing is being done on an old-fashioned
hand-loom, the warp being 19 feet long
and the woof four feet, so that the ma-
terial will cut to splendid advantage.
Only about 10 inches a day can be
woven, and the whole piece will not be
completed until some time in April. It
is of that now extremely fashionable
loose and careless admixture of colors
known as the Oriental. When the dress
is made it is to be worn by a young
wax lady with a glass head,
blown expressly for the occasion
by the Professor, and profusely
ornamented with blonde glass curls.
The dress is to be made with panier
skirt, loop sleeves and square neck. It
is to be beautified with box pleating,
and bound in blue. It was at first in-
tended to make it low-waisted, like
Louisa Lome's, but a grave fear was
entertained that the indignant blood of
modesty would mantel the wearer's
crystal cheeks with blushes, and possi-
bly melt her wax body irremediably.
When the dress and the wearer are fully
constructed they will be put on exhibi-
tion in thi3 city. At the coronation of
Queen Victoria she wore a dress the
woof of which was of spun glass, but
the warp of silk. This was then thought
| to be the greatest triumph which could
j ever be accomplished in the glass busi-
j ness. In 1863, at Cincinnati, Prof.
| Grenier spun and wove a dress entirely
I of glass,for which he was offered $2,500,
but which offer he declined. He was
soon pretty sorry for doing so, for while
he was taking in the fractional currency
at the entrance door visitors were cut-
ting small sections out of his curiosity
as souvenirs of the occasion, until there
was actually nothing left to exhibit but
holes.
Mr. Belt, theseuiptor, has completed
the clay model of the Byron statue
which is to be erected in London. The
statue will be cast in bronze, is nine feet
high and is to be placed upon a pedestal
10 feet in height. The block of the finest
Pentelic marble, for the pedestal, has
been presented by the Greek Nation as a
tribute to the memory of Lord Byron.
Various sites have been suggested for
the statue, among others the top and
bottom of St. James's Street and the
Green Park. The design represents the
poet seated on a rock, his head resting
on his right hand, the elbow on the
knee and the left hand poising a pencil
over an open note book. Byron wears
the familiar loose, sailor shirt, open col-
lar and sash, while at his side is his fa-
vorite Newfoundland dog.
There are in Russia many obscure
sects whose rites are on a level with
those of the most barbarous savages.
The disappearence of sundry children
has resulted lately in tho discovery of a
sect who hold that real blood should
take the place of wine at the Lord's
Supper, and whoso agents abducted and
killed infants to supply this.
Governess (desirous of explaining
the word 44 enough ")—44 Now, supposo
Freddy, that yon give pussy all the milk
she can lap, all the meat she can eat,
and all the sweet cake she cares for—
what will she have?" Freddy (with
surprising alacrity)—44 Kittens! "—Bos-
ton Olobe.
/'14 One touch of nature," observed the
inebriate as tho ground rose and struck
him.
How Great Hogs Are Fattened.
j
A Burlington (N. J.) letter to the
! Philadelphia Times says: Carter and
[ Southard have reduced the business of
j pork-raising to a science. The former,
j intent upon taking the palm, started off
| with 39 hogs. Upon 27 of these he
j bases his hopes of success. Of the
; original number several have been kill-
ed. In January three of them came so
very near choking to death that the
farmer grew frightened and slaughtered
them. They weighed 798, 817, and 738
pounds, respectively. The hogs entered
for tho prize have the very best of care.
There are just two events in the lives of
| such hogs—sleeping and eating. They
j are too fat even to waddle. They never
wake up except to eat, and that process
over they again stretch out upon clean
straw in thoir separate pens. These
particular hogs of Mr. Carter's were too
lazy even to feed themselves, and, in-
deed, even if they were not, they could
not soe their food. For weeks they had
been in total blindness. Like the
hog of no particular distinction,
they all had eyes, but three
inches and a half of genuine fat kept
them closed completely. The feeding
process is one of interest to both hog
and spectator. The farm hand rolls up
j boiled meal into round balls and forces
it into their hogships' mouths. The
hogs grunt and swallow, and keep it up
j until they are perfectly gorged. They
are kopt in a stuffed condition on tho
best of meal, and all that is asked of
them is to grow fat. Southard has not
killed yet. He began the year with 29
hogs, all Jersey reds, but his pens now
contain but 23. There they wore, ly-
ing around, grunting and puffing, and
with snouts pointing upward in search
of air. Their eyes could not be seen,
and it took strong fingers to pry away
the masses of fat so that the hidden or-
gans of sight could be opened out. The
blind, helpless masses were shaken by
loud breathing, and occasionally would
give vent to a snort, but they seemed
entirely unable to get upon their feet.
ft
Tl
I
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Burhans, R. Polk. Denison Daily News. (Denison, Tex.), Vol. 7, No. 20, Ed. 1 Sunday, March 16, 1879, newspaper, March 16, 1879; (https://texashistory.unt.edu/ark:/67531/metapth327176/m1/4/: accessed March 29, 2024), University of North Texas Libraries, The Portal to Texas History, https://texashistory.unt.edu; crediting Grayson County Frontier Village.