The Butler Weekly Times Newspaper, December 18, 1889, Page 6

IN AN OLD GARDEN. As fair the purpie slopes arise As tho’ against these tender skies Were set the hills of Paradise, Lower, great beeches crowd adown, And brows, that birch and hemlock erowa, Of stern, gray rock in sunshine frowa. At last a little knoll, and then In haste to meet the steps of men, A brook that rusbes from the glen. Beside that joyous-flowing stream White walls and cheerful windows gleam, And, red at night, the lamp's soft beam. Along its belt of meliow land, Knee-deep in clover, orchards stand With murmuring hives un either han3; And the long garden, steeped in sweet, Lies basking in the summer heat, And seems to wait for coming feet. There, blooming on from year to year, The sweet oid flowers in turn appear, Like friendly eyes, remembered dear. Coy April brings the daffodil And silent violets, that still The very heart that perfume thrill. In childish glee comes wayward May, When borders, aii in trim array, With lightsome, nodding heads are gay. Brave June her lavish treasure shows And over all the garden throws ‘The magic splendor of the rose. In hot July the lily stands And seems to bless with holy hands— A virgin chaste. whose look commands, So on the happy season moves, Yet with each day the pilgrim proves; Potent and faithful all their loves. Meek children of the Earth, they run A shining course from sun to sun, And sink to rest when that is done A fair and blameless company, Here still her garden breathes: “O see How pure one faithful life may be!’ =D. H. R. Goodale, in N. Y. Independent. “THE DUFFER.” The Pathetic Story of Only a Worthless Cur. “What on earth made you call the Poor brute by such a name as that?” asked Mr. Belton, looking down with ® certain contemptuous pity at the non- descript animal who was imprinting dirty paw-marks upon his new box- cloth gaiters. “Well, reely, sir,” answered Mr. Markham, the horse-dealer, “I don't Yardly see what else you could call him. Strayed ’ere last winter when he was on’y a pup; and as nobody claimed him I kep’ him, thinkin’ he might turn Out to be some good for somethin’. But I'm blessed if I can discover what the Lord created him for. Won't fight, Won't kill a rat, won't earn his keepin no sort o’ way. So we called him the Duffer, and he answored as nat'ral as I should if you was to sing out ‘Joo Markham.’ Give a dog a bad name and ‘ang him, they say. Well, I've give him his name, and now I 8’ pose T shall have to do the rest; for I can’t ‘afford to pay seven and six a year for the likes of him in these ’ard times.” “He doesn’t look a well-bred one,” Observed Mr. Belton. “Oh, he’s a cur, sir; no need to tell you that. Got a bit of the bull in him, , 88 you see; but what the rest of him is if I couldn't say, not if you was to put me on my hoath. Good-natured creat- 4) ur’, too; it goes agin’ me to put him Out o’ the way. Seoms to have took to i} YOu wonderful, sir. Cur’ous ain't it, how dogs always know a gentleman as understands ‘em. That very smart young gentleman, Dick Belton, thought he understood a 00d deal about dogs. He also thought that he understood a good deal about horses, and was under the impression that he had just purchased a valuable hunter at a great bargain from Mr. HiMarkham. Whether this confidence in his knowledge and capacity rested upon any solid foundation may be open D doubt, but at any rate it sufficed to fyput him in a good humor, and he said: "Oh, I'll give the Poor beggar a home Hf you like. One more dog among so i hy won't make much difference.” | Thus it came to pass that, the same } ening, smart Mr. Belton's smart | #@TOOM was requested to take charge of j an animal, amongst whose advantages (if he had any) be reckoned. All the dogs in the stable-yard made pection of him; and it is lamentable © be obliged to add that each and all ef them forced him without any diffi- fmeulty to accept a licking. | After that it was absurd to think of apeenging his name. As his former : ogden said, what else could you t Slavish, Passionate, demonstrative ppove is, alas! never appreciated by its pbject in this perverse world, and such an affection it was that the'poor Duffer aad conceived for Dick Belton. Now - Belton had to stand a good deal of f about this ridiculous dog. The i Duffe refused to leave him, did not jppeeent being kicked out of the room, Usted upon sleeping at his bedroom toor, and when he was out hunting led without intermission until his Dick Belton was a good- a ed fellow, but of course he was moyed by a method of treatment hich has been found annoying by all uman beings from the beginning of ame. However, he submitted to it Bore or less uncomplainingly for a wow Many weeks, and doubtless his Hpenence would have held out even H r but for a most vexatious inci- which occurred at the very end of Season. Tn all the world, Perhaps, there was for whom Dick entertained of deeper Veneration and ee than he did for Sir Brooke Scat- d; so that he was naturallyJmuch ored and flattered when Sir Brooke smartness could hardly oo &n off-day to call upon | from hale | low to be able to mount him so well. | Now, who could ever have supposed that this kindly and condescending act was liable to misconstruction? Who | could have guessed that the idioticdog | would take it for a demonstration of hostility? Yetsome such idea must, /no doubt. have suggested itself to the | foolish Duffer, who, without uttering a | Sound, promptly pinned Sir Brooke by the leg. It was no easy matter to choke him off; but this was finally accomplished by Dick’s strong fingers, and as, by the mercy of Heaven, the old gentleman was wearing leather gaiters, the dam- | age done was comparatively trifling. Nevertheless it was a very disagree- able thing to have happened, and Sir Brooke was not quite as pleasant about it as he might have been. This decided the Duffer's fate. He received a tremendous thrashing, to which he submitted without a whim- per—he who would yell aloud if a lap- dog snapped at him!—and on the fol lowing day he was driven over ina dog-cart to the abode of his late pro- prietor. “Here, Markham!” called out Mr. Belton, “I've brought that brute of yours back to you. I'll give you a couple of sovereigns for his keep and his license, but I can’t stand him fol- lowing me about any longer.” Joe Markham accepted the dog and the sovereigns, and Dick drove away —not, indeed, without some inward pangs of compunction, yet feeling that, upon the whole, he had behaved handsomely in the matter. “Duffer come ’ome late Jarst night, sir,” remarked his groom when he sauntered into the stable yard next morning. ‘‘’Ad a bit o’ cord round his neck, which I expect he'd gnawed it through, sir.” And there, sure enough, crouched behind the door, was the culprit, feebly agitating a penitent tail and bringing a pair of pleading, depre- cating eyes to bear upon the object of his adoration. The poor thing's eyes were not soft and eloquent, as the eyes of some dogs are. They were only two little round, black beads, with ugly pink rims. Yet there wasa look in them which, quite against Dick Belton’s will, found its way to his heart. “Oh, you abominable, useless, hide- ous beast!” he exclaimed, breaking into a vexed laugh. “I suppose you will stick to me now until one or other of us dies.” He was a nuisance of course; but Dick ended by accepting him as he accepted shaving every morning and other inevitable nuisances about which there is no use in grumbling. When Dick moved up to London for the season, the Duffer accompanied him and shared his rooms in St. James’. The other dogs went, as usual, to the stables; but this audacious mongrel re- fused to be contented with accommoda- tion which was considered good enough for his betters. Before the month of July he had made many friends by his general affability, and had done noth- ing to earn another such enemy as Sir Brooke Scatterfield. At some point or other, however,the line must needs be drawn, and Dick drew it at taking this four-footed ador- er of his out of the United Kingdom. It was towards the end of the season when every body was leaving London, that he received a pressing invitation from a friend to proceed to the Pyre- nees and join in a shooting expedition on the unfrequented southern slopes of that range. Dick, who was an ar- dent sportsman, and whose ambition was excited by the hopes held out to him of a shot ata bouquetin, or wild goat, readily agreed to this Proposi- tion, and at once made preparations for a start.” “Just keep your eye on the Duffer, will you?” he said to his groom at the last moment; ‘‘and you may as well chain him up for the rest of the day.” Dick Belton, as he settled himself comfortably in a smoking carriage of the express which was to take him to Dover, gave a great’ sigh of relief. “Thank Heaven,” he soliloquized, “I shan't see that beggar’s ugly mug the first thing when I wake in the morning for some time to come! Per- haps, if Ihave any luck, he may die or decamp before I get back again.” “Dog ticket, please, sir?” said the guard, apologetically, when the train reached the Dover station, “Haven't got a dog with me,” an- swered Dick. “Beg pardon, sir; under the seat, I think. I see him jump in while you was buying a paper at Victoria, sir.” Dick glanced hastily under his legs, and made use of an expression which is legally punishable by a fine of five shillings. “Well, upon my word and honor,” he ejaculated, “if this is not enough to make an Archbishop curse and Swear, I don’t know what is.” There, however, -ie was, apologetic and bean ain yet firm; and there seemed to nothing for it but to his fare to Paris. Z on As the Duffer had obtained his own way, it was only in accordance with hould suffer a little and in truth he suffered a good deal between Calais and Argeles, at which latter place he and his master took leave of railways. _ He was, therefore, all the more over- yed when Dick came to set him free his narrow, dark prison, and even condescended to throw him a word or two. It did day, to a man who at best treated him | with disdainful toleration, he was per. 'fectly satisfied, and asked for noth more. To trot behind the carriage up the high road to Gavarnie was all very well—a little tiring, still useful in the way of wearing down the claws and re- moving superfluous flesh from the ribs. | The first thing that Dick Belton | heard, on reaching Gavarnie, was that three days previously his friend had been suddenly summoned to England, but that he hoped to return to the Pyrenees as soon as possible. Mean- while he was begged to start at once in quest of game, and was assured that the guide who was awaiting his ar- rival might be relied upon to show him sport. This guide, a grim, taci- turn personage, Jacques Cazaril by name, began objecting strongly to Monsieur’s “‘bouledogue.” He said it would be almost impossible to get such a clumsily-made creature over the high passes which they would have to cross, but Dick Belton, who was something of a spoilt boy, had been put out—in the first place by his friend’s involuntary desertion of him, and, in the second, by certain criticisms in which the guide had seen fit to indulge with respect to his rifles and ammunition. He therefore replied curtly that he meant to take the dog with him. Eventually a compromise was ar- rived at. In order to approach the haunts of the rarely-seen bouquetin it was necessary to camp out in one or other of the lonely valleys on the Spanish side of the mountains, and Dick agreed that during the daytime the Duffer should be left in charge of the porter, who formed the only other member of the small party. Those were sad days for the Duffer, and not entirely pleasant ones for the porter, who gave up kicking him after a time and did not repulse the friendly ad- vances which he made after nightfall. Considerably less benevolence was manifested by his master, who was not happy, owing to his failure to come across any trace of a bouquetin. A fair number of izards he did succeed in bringing down; but then he had not come all the way from England for the sake of shooting izards, and he was in- clined to be dissatisfied with the phleg- matic Cazaril, who merely shrugged his shoulders, remarking that it was no fault of his if bouquetins were not as common as sheep. And when, after various changes of quarters, the party arrived at the baths of Panticosa, this rather cross-grained guide was greatly displeased to hear that his employer had secured the services of two vil- lainous-looking Spaniards, who pro- fessed to know of a district in which the evasive quarry was pretty sure to be encountered. “They hunt a bouquetin!” he ex- claimed, scornfully; “why, they don't so much as know what a bouquetin is! What they would like to do would be to entice us into some out-of-the-way spot and cut our throats.” “Two can play that game,” Mr. Bel- ton observed, “and if they attempt any thing of the kind three of us will play it* You and I and the porter ought to beable to give a tolerably good ac- count of those half-starved wretches, I should think. However, if you are afraid, by all means say so; I have no doubt that I can replace you.” To a suggestion so worded only one reply could be made, and Cazaril made it sullenly enough. He knew very well that, if it came toa stand-up fight, the Spaniards could have no sort of chance; but he was equally well aware that they would never risk such a thing, and he was certain that robbery was their object. “You and I,” he said, privately to the porter, ‘‘must take it in turns to keep watch every night. Once let these scoundrels catch the three of us asleep and we shall be three dead men, you may be sure.” To be proved wrong is never agree- able, but what is much worse is to ap- pear to be wrong when you are really right all the time. This was the mortifying fate of Cazaril, who could not find it in his heart to rejoice when, two days after the guidance of the Spaniards had been forced upon him, Dick Belton shot a bouquetin. To any one conversant with such matters it was manifest that this piece of luck was in no way due to their knowledge of sport or locality, for their ignorance of both had been exhibited half a dozen times in as many hours. Dick stretched himself out luxuri- ously upon the hard ground, with his feet toward the bivouac fire, and was soon wrapped in a slumber more sweet and deep than any that those who sleep in beds can ever hope to enjoy. He was aroused from it by a terrific yell, followed by a sound of flying foot- steps; and then, before he had half collected his wits, he found himself fighting for his life. By mere force of instinct he grasped his rifle and, clubbing it, struck down one of the Spaniards who had sprung upon him, while at the same instant the long knife of the other was plunged sideways into the muscles of his back, inflicting a wound which he scarcely felt. In point of physique he was more than a match for his assail- ant, but the latter was wiry, active and had bewildered Dick, who was still half asleep, and who was again stabbed in the arm, while a blow which he aimed at the would-be assas- sin spent itself in the air and very nearly landed him upon his face. At his feet lay Cazaril, gagged and bound; the porter, who had taken to his heels, was already far away; and it is by no means certain that Mr. Belton would ever have seen his native land again if at this juncture an invaluable ally had Pper- | not come to his assistance. The DuSsr, heavy sleeper; unlike Cazaril, he had the misplaced confidence which all bull-headed dogs have in the integrity of the human race. Probably, there- fore, he did not suspect foul play until he saw his master struck; but as soon as the true nature of the situation unhesitatingly into the fray. had the fellow hard and fast by the throat. What followed can hardly be / called a struggle, in ‘from the outset wa: right side, and, of course, it is easy enough to fell a half-throttled man. | Yet even the easiest of victories is not jto be won without bloodshed, and ale | though Dick Belton could not accuse | himself of having acted with any lack |of promptitude, he had to see the |Spaniard’s knife plunged again and | again into his faithful servant's body | before all resistance collapsed. When |he was kneeling upon the prostrate body of the foe he said: ‘All right, Duffer, old man, you can let him go now.” But the Duffer still held on. There is but one way of making a bull-dog relax his grip, and this Dick was forced, somewhat against his will, to employ; because, however much a misereant may deserve death, it is al- ways a little embarrassing to have his dead body upon your hands. But the Duffer, poor fellow, did not require a great deal of choking, and perhaps it was not the pressure of his master's knuckles that caused him to give a long sigh and roll over upon his side on the grass. For some minutes Dick could pay no attention to him. He himself had lost a good deal of blood and was beginning to feel faint; also he had to cut the cord by which Caz- aril’s arms were bound and utilize it to secure his prisoner. But when that was a complished, and when a hasty examination had been made of his wounds, and the craven porter had been duly anathematized. he remem- bered to whom it was due that he had escaped more or less unharmed from a very ticklish emergency. “Upon my word,” he exclaimed, “that cur of mine has more stuff in him than any one would have sup- posed! He’s as ugly as sin and the big- gest fool out, but I'll be hanged if Tl ever be ashamed of him again!” After glancing at him Dick hastily snatched up a_ piece of burning wood from the fire. The red light fell upon the pool of blood in which he was lying; he was still alive, but there was no need to possess Mr. Belton’s veter- inary knowledge in order to see that nothing could be done for him. With a sorrowful ejaculation, Dick dropped upon his knees beside him and kissed his head. It was the first time since the Duffer had come into his possession that he had done such a thing, and it may be hoped that this somewhat tardy token of affection soothed the last mo- ments of its recipient, who wagged his stump of a tail feebly, and almost im- mediately afterwards expired.—W. E Norris, in Philadelphia Press. Mrs. M. A. Lineback’s Statement. Rheumatic Syrup Co., Jackson, Mich. Gents: For the past ten years I have been a sutteier from liyer complaint and theumatism. Finding no relief my con- dition became so wretched that I had no hope of recovery. Seeing Hibbard’s Rhematic Syrup advertised [ purchashed six bo'tles and now am entirely cured, both from rheumatism and the liyer trouble. Have also used Hibbard’s Kheumatic Plasters with the best results. I can certity to the truth of the-above statement. Mis. Lineback was cured of rheumatism and liver complaint by the use ot Hibbard’s Rheumatic Syrup and Plasters. Sol. Kittering, Druggist, Lisbon, Iowa. Money to Loan. On good security. We have mon ey to loan at 6 per cent interest and 5 per cent commission for five years. No other charges. Borrower can pay all or part at any interest’ pay- ing time. This makes your loan cost about 7 per cent. 48 tf Jas. K. Bruewen. A Convict’s Terrible End. Jefferson City, Mo. Dec. 16.— The lines of the convicts were filing out after religious services in the penitentiary this afternoon, when John Welch sprang from the ranks and leaped over the railing of the fourth story of the dining hall building. He struck the landing of the story below and fell headfore most on the stones. He was picked upin an insensible condition and died about an hour later in the hos pital. He had only been in prison about a month, having been sent up from Stoddard county fora term of ten years. He was of unsond mind and when received here there was a gaping wound 0a the side of his neck, the result of an attempt to commit suicide while in jail at Bloomfiel?. He was placed in the h_spital until the wound was healed and then sent to one of the cell build- ings with other insane persons, the hospital ward being c:owded. Jacks for Sie. I will sell my 2 fine Kentucky jacks. Th. se jacks are fuli15 hands high; color, b'ack; mezly nose; heavy bone, and are sure foal getters. Caas. S$. Coxxirx, Passaic. 5 miles north of Butler. much as victory | ssured for the | | druggists. { | 25 cents and upwards. cheap and pretty. Here We Are dawned upon him he threw himself} With | one bound he ianded upon the Span- | iard’s chest, and the next instant he | With 2 full line of goods for the Holiday trade. If you want to ake u present, we can supply your wants and save vou money. Beautiful Decorated China Cups & Svers Childrens Tea sets, Bisque figures, Ves. &e. We have a large asrortment of Library, Vase and Stand amps, they are lovly presents: and we have them at all prices. Whave a large stock of GLASS AND QUEENSWARE and will until January Ist. 1890, make onr customers r resent of 25 per cent. redvction on these goods to reduce the stockor invoicing and-—yes we will include our large stock of tinrvare in the clearance sale. DON’T FORCET TO CALLAND SEE us for you aae bound to make a big savingby so doing. ET, STEELE & CO The Democrat learns of a fatal accident which occurred last week to Walter Van Winkle, aged about 15 years,son of Thomas Van Winkle, who lives on the Thomas Calvert farm, about two miles northeast of Windsor. In company with two or three neighboring farmer boys, were chasing squirrels in the timber, and succeeded in running one up a tree which they decided on capturing. While two of the boys were using an ax, young Van Winkle pulled ona grape vine which hung from the tree to assist in the work. When the tree started to fall, Van Winkie was caught under the hmbs his skull being fractured at its base and his neck broken. He was removed to the residence of H. T. Douglass, the nearest house, but death had already resulted. Mr. Thomas Van Winkle, his father, removed from Deer Creek township, this county, tohis home near Windsor, five or six years ago. Theremains were in- terred at Bronaugh Chapel in Deer Creek township —Henry Co. Demo- crat. Feed Lot for Rent. I have a feed lot for rent at Crys- tal Springs, will accommodate 500 head of stock; will also furnish 2,000 bushels of corn at 16 cents per bu. in the feeders. C. B. Lewis. Congressman Randall Almost Well. Washington, D.C., Dec. 13.—Rep- resentative Samuel J. Randall was so much improved yesterday that he get up and walked about the house for some time. His condition cor- tinues to improve each day aud his strength is increasing. Heis very cheerful and takes a keen interest in the proceedings of congress but will not atteud the sessions of the house until after the holidays. H.R. C. Its Merits as a Biood Purifier. Atlanta, Ga, Nov. 4, 1887. Aunnicutt’s Rheumatic Cure Co., Gentlemen—I have used five bot- 'tles of our H. R. C., and can cheer- i fuly recommeud it as the best blood | purifier and tonic I have ever used. | Since taking your Cure I have gain- ‘ed twenty pounds in weight. | Yours truly, Wm. H. — | Price $1 per bottle. For sale by lg 21m Redy to Meet Jackson. Bostor Mass., Dec. 14.—A meet- jing betwen Sullivan and Jackson at the Clifornia athletic club with- | in five nonths for a purse of $15,- 000 is mw assured. This morning Capt. Cook of this | city, received a telegram from Pres- ident Fulla of that club, stating | that Jackson, prior to his departure | for Londn, had cabled his willing- | ness to meet Sullivan provided that he had fve months to get ready. | Fulda rquested the captain to find out fron Sullivan whether he would | meet che black pugilist in that time for a purse of $15,000. | Sallivan was seen this afternoon | and when matters were explained to him heat once accepted the propo- sition, being, as he said, perfectly satisfied with the terms offered and the time fixed. He will journey to the Pacific coast in a short time and prepare for the meeting there. He is now in fairly good condition. Wantep.—A car load of mules from 14 to 15 hands high, for which I will pay the highest price. D. A. Coryen. A Harrison “Veteran” Cared For. Washington, D. C., Dec. 13.— Lewis Wilson of Minnesota, who lost both hands by the explosion of a cannon while firing a salute in hon- or of Harrison’s election as presidant was to-day appointed one of the doorkeepers of the house of repre- S2ntatives at a salary of $1,200 per apnum. Harris & Lisle are the mule men of this section ‘of Missouri. They are buying every day in the week, they are now needing a couple of car loads and you can get the top of the market for your mules by calling at their stables in Butler. St. Louis, Mo., Dec. 13.—Judge Thomas gave his decision in the Chambers bail case to-day. He has decided to admit Chambers to bail in the sum of 350,000. Chambers is the slayer of Attorney Bowman and recently secured a change of venue. H» will furnish the bond to-morrow,