Omaha Daily Bee Newspaper, September 5, 1886, Page 7

L Stockdale & Mitchell's Opice, 1510 Dod Host t v 1 and ] ¥ A ¢ n the city. 1 of ' £500 to £10,000 on good city | r ty, Wil beglad to take you out and 8how “you the eity Make this your hend quurters during the Byair and you wil make woney. & e ¢ x—1 g o 3 a> - - =1 3 = g a1 3 R = 5 s s, =2 2ol = Nsg -hfl:g;-; > o U 2 go(fl:, = Q.= Al —— a-g - N‘ =] d THE POET JOHN G. SAXE. Olouded Olosing of His Life—Pathetic De- tails of Somber Days- IMPATIENT WAITING FOR DEATH. Once the Nation's Wit and Humorist —The Thomas Hood of America— His Present Condition the Re- sult of an Acvident. Edward Duffy in Brooklyn Magazine: In a large and luxuriously furnished apartment in a four-story brownstone house on State street. in the city of Al- most within a stone’s throw t capitol, sits, or walks, or re- clines throughout tibe day a man of 70 years of age. With hair that is silvery white, a full beard that is gray-white, a form that is bent and emaciated, a step that is slow and tottering, and a cheek that is pallid and shrunken—his blue eyes yet full and lustrous alone indicate the strength and pride of other days. This man 15 John Godfrey Saxe, the poet. He was the nation’s wit and humorist, whose delicious rhymes brought to him- self fame and a compotence, and to many a houschold the cheerful smilo or hearty laugh. Even across the sea he was known as “‘the Thomas Hood of Amer- ica.” Yet alas! how intensely pathetic is the rounding out of this mun's days! For some years he has been dead to all the world. Few people know that he is yet alive; fow of numorous former admir- ers think of him now other than one who has been, but who no longer moves amon, s kind. The victim of a_deep- seated, ever vresent melancholy, his clos- ing years are touchingly sad and un- eventful, the never ceasing care of the few relatives that are spared him even failing to rid him of the deep gloom in which unhappily his mind “is now shrouded. Up to the year 1875 John G. Xe was 2 splendid and conspicuous specimen of virile manhood. He stood six feet two inches tall, prondly erect and muscular, with a laree, round and finely poised head set upon broad and stalwart should- ers. The beginning of the end was the poet’s drendful experience and remark- able escupe from a revolting death 1n a western railway disaster in the spring of 1875, while on is return to Brooklyn at the conclusion of a lecture tour in the south. The sleeping car in which he had a berth was thrown down a steep em- bankment, and he was rescued therefrom by the merest chance. As he lay wedged in between the broken timbers, stunned and bruised, a fellow passenger who had d bethought him of a sum of which he had left behind him, On roturning to the car, he stumbled upon the insensible poct. The latter was thereby discovered and rescued from what would inevitably have been death and destruction by flre, as the sleeper in which he was found, after a brief inter- val following his rescue, bocame a mass of seething flame, His tlesh was bruised, but no bones were broken, Outwaraly he :x‘np ared to haye eseaved with slight bodily injuries, Not 80, The poot’s nervous system had received a shoc from which 1t never rallied. He begah to experience a greater degree of bodily and mental fa- tigue than had been usual with him. orst of all was its depressing influence on his exuberant spirits, which became wore and more subdued, until at last his mind had lost much of its wonted buoy- ancy. ‘The old poet is now much changed in form and feature, being merely a shadow of his former self. During the first three years of his residence in Albany he spent some hours each pleasant day in s\mhiug about the beautiful park near by, or tran quilly sitting there in a shady arbor, watching the children at their play, But during tho.past two years no public cye has seen him, for in that long interval he has of his own choice been carcfully se- cluded in his roow. It is a long time since he last con sented to receive a stranger, or even a intance of former r,”" he said, with pathos, *'to be forcibly reminder of what 1 once was—of the ‘duys of my hope and strength, when the world had charms that are now dead to me; ness had deprived me of my health, and death had robbed me of my loved ones,” In 1851, on his first coming to Albany, the eminent physicians whom his family consulted in his behalf, predicted that he would not survive for two years longer, Unti! quite recently he devoted a good share of his time to the perusal of the standard poets and the leading muga- =ines, those of tho latter to whose [: res h&‘r‘u onim . “lu‘id l«::..mlrnllnuor still sent him regularly and by the puhmhnn thereof, in . cing olicited THE S OMAHA DAII JA.RINEHART Pho‘ographer, CLOTHIER, Gen ts' Furnish'g Goods Hats, ( Trunks, aps, Valis 1207 Farna m St. membrance of past services. For some years he has not read the daily papers, and evinces little or no interest in cur- casualties, Indeed, he reads comparatively little of any kind now—occasionally a page or two maybe of ol i vorite prose authors, that mainly consist of Haw- thorne, Dickens and Thackeray. judi- clously selecting therefrom matter of cheerful tone and subject. When undis- turbed he is much given to musing; but at times will converse willingly and fluently, displaying a power of memory that, 1 view of s teeble physical condi- tion, is quite unlooked for, recently sur- ing his son not a little by repeating tim one of Charles Lamb’s longest thoughts often revert to his irre; parable loss of wife and children, speak- ing of cach tenderly and regretfully, and manifesting a keen interest in the proper care of their graves—ever dwelling on the domestic afllictions which have broken his heart and enveloped his once brilliant intellect in a brooding and in- curable melancholy. In his room hangs & small portr: Thomas Hood, which was given him by the English humorist’s son, and to which he attaches a more than ordinary value, He sometimes remar gazing at this picture “I wonder if poor Tom Hool fered in hislatter years as keenly fer now!” Again the observation escapes him:— “I" do not seec how any human I'g can continue to live in a condition so utterly hopeless as mine.” Is not this very, very pathetic? At rare intervals, in_his brighter and more hopeful meods, his_retentive mem- ory revives a former interest in old friends and pleasant associations The name of Lougfellow is often on his lips; that poct’s death afflicted him deeply, contributing not a little to the gloow. tha was just then fastening itself upon lus buoyant nature. ———— The Wall Paper Business. Joe Howard in Boston Globe: Septem- ber 20 will open the *‘pool year,” in the wall paper trade. This means that the members of the American Wall Paper Manufacturers’ association will begin on that day to sell goods from the new stocks manufactured since lust spring. There are twenty-four members of the association, thirteen of whom are in New York and four in Brooklyn, Of the rest four are located in Philadelphia one in Buffalo, while there is one associate mem- ber, non-manufacturing,on Staten Island. A'Fuuulinnly( the “‘pool’’ transactions 18 that all invoices of wall paper shipped Before Dotoberib or attor Slaroh 1, fol- lowing date from the day of shipment, while invoices shipped between the dates named may date as late as March 1, the object being to concentrate the bulk of the wall paper business within five months. All the large houses in New York agree that the coming pool year promises to be one of brisk t and ~ gencral profit There r' no differences of any moment within the association, and notwithstanding tho fact that the concerns outside the pool have increased fn number since Jast year, the nssociation’s schedule is so arranged that costly antagonism without 18 not ex- pected, Styles in wall paper change al. most completely every season. In the hundreds of samples there 1s but one whieh was in the market last year. It is a vorder that proved especially popular, and nmly have decided to run it again this year, The new styles aro hard to des- cribe to porsons outside of the trade. In & general way I may say desigus in wall paper have for several years been run- ning to rataer large figures., There are wany of this style large but not loud fig- ures in stock for the coming season, Blanks, papers with the designs worked on plain surfaces, brown, bufl and white, are decidedly the most on demand be- cause they are the cheapest, ranging from 64 to 12 cents a roll at wholesale. ~ Satin papers snd what are called embossed grounds are also generally in good de- mand and cost a little more than the blanks, the jrices varying ac- cording to quality from 12 to 17 conts aroll.” Bronzed paper, plain, colored and embossed, ave of a higher grade, costing from 23 to 44 ceatsa rofl, ant contain many really rich specimens of wall paper art. Some of the embosad bronzes this yoar are as handsome as have been seen in the markel, and rival oil paintings for delicacy of shade and color. But the most thoroughly artistic work in the wall paper line is found on the borders, many of which are as skill- fully designed and carefully produced as the classic sculptuzed friezos of antiquity. Ever since the dado craze of a few years ago borders have been rlmcllini greater artistic perfection every year. Thore are bronzed borders, four-band bronzed, em- bossed bronzed, iwenty-two inches wide, wnd what ave ealled” bronzed blotehod borders, an eflect peculizrly strikiug and unique, ‘and the prices for these goods range from 55 to 85 cents and even as high s $1.03 a roll from Lrst hands. ‘MY SON Abbreviated from La F Times-Den I A bivouac in Tonkin A squadron of Chasseurs d’Afrique, the advan guard of the expeditionary col- umn, has halted at the approach of night. ‘The little troop—drenched by the fine, close rain which has never ceased to fall since morning, worn out with fatigue, with empty stomachs—has drawn rein unon a hillock whick overlooks the rice ficlds and the bamboos. “Quartermaster!” ealls voice. One of shakes, rise sioned oflice stands in New Orleans a peremptory the military cloaks movi up; and the non-commis- thus aroused from slumber ting orders, touching lus right temple with his fingers. “Two volunteers for a dangerous mis- sion."” In the twinkling of an eye the entire The detachment springs to its feet. word *‘dangerous” has tempted e body, and every hand is lifted, waving “Since all are willing, we must choose, " observed the officer, a staff captain. | ““Select from the right of the column.” he two men chosen advance. 0 each one he delivers a dispatch, adding some 1nstructions in a low voice. The destination of both couriers is the same, but the paths they will follow are different. If one falls the other may ar- rive in safety. The oflicer points to a p is the route of the first m salutes hi and dis; The other courier must cross the moun- tain. But the mightis black, and expla- nations of the route are diflicult to com- prehend in this unknown country. “‘Mount and follow me,” the captain orders. “From the height I can point out the route to you.” I The rain had stopped. Under the night the two horsemen urged their panung steods at a walk up the steep and stony slope that overlooks he moon had risen, ating the far-gleaming and rain- hfd country with a sad and uncer- ight. “You understand?” observed the per- emptory voice of the captain, *The dis- patch must be given to the general himself. He awaiting our arrival to begm the attack. He must know we are there.” “*All right, captain,’’ replied the cour- ier; *'it will be done.” And the siience of the two men, broken for a moment, recommenced; there was no sound but the clattering of the horses’ feet as their iron-shod hoofs struck the pebbly soil. Thoughtfully the captain observed the young soidier, who had unconsciously fered his norse to gain a pace in ad- of that of hLis chief. He noticed n. Across it i senger, who chief hastily, mounts his horse the encampment. illumi { the strong ruddy neck of the young man, and the thickly-set, fair hair, cropped short according to regulation, which curled about his nape. With his broad, sloping shoulders, his sinewy back elearly and boldly outlined under”the uniform, his museular limbs well gripping the gides of his horse, he the Jurest type of that fine, vig v Ll‘cn h race whose de a steadily degenerating under the influ- ence of the city debauch and encryation which a gn..fu;.ny creeping even into the country. “Where are you from?” the oflicer asked “‘From Guerigny, on the Loire, close to Nevers, captain, answered the trooper. The oflicer looked up. “1 supposo you know the place, cap- tain?”’ continned the trooper. ‘At least, I suppese_you have been stationed at Nevers., There is a cavalry garrison there."” i there is,” responded the eaptain. “That is so! And how old are you?"’ “1 will be tweunty-one next St. Martin's day." ny brothers or sisters?” Vo, eaptain; I um un only son.” b Then your mother must have sufiered a great deal at your departur ‘I have no mother, captain. She died when I was quite a child, so t I might almost say 1 never knew her. *Is your father old?” A “1liave no father either,” replied the young wan, becoming suddenly more Serious, “What? Is he dead, too?” “I don't know," answered the soldier In a low voice. *“‘He went away before I was born, and I do not bear hisTname.” ‘A" oxclaimed the captain suddenly. Then in & gentle voice beadded, **Pardon here 1s nothing to excuse, captain,” said the young man sadly. “You could not have known. Until I was ten years old I did not know myself. Then one day ut the village school one of my plavmates during a quarrel called me a *bastard.’ I did not understund, but 1 knew from his S J A.LOVGREN Real Fsfate AGENCY, 113 N. 16th Street, , Not Oma Always lave fine hargains on hand. Come and investigate our, list, FURNITURE CCMPANY, Wa Can Save You 20 Per Cent. Everythine in our <01 s heen bought for cash. ) Open every even. e until 4 o dlok i No. 408 N, 6th { Fstatirook Block, Omaha, Neb, rtended to insult me, and, : I jumped af him, In aithougn he v the evening 1 aske those 1 culled that word meant w stood. They looked at each other, and 1 monient’s hesitation papa s ars old and getting to L must learn'the truth exclaimed the captain, “and what was the truth? “Just about what T hs you myself, eaptgin ronger than me. my parents—at I and mamma—w ch 1 had not unc e a e already told that my father had abandoned my ) r, und that she had died of grief two ye after bringing me into the world, Teaving me to the eare of my lrvr:uulp ) *Poor bo, d the officer, becoming suddenly pensive, And he repeated in a whisper to hifnself, “Poor boy!" Then mechynicaily changing bis tone, and addr he young man with al- most unconscious respeet, he added “And you wmust hate that man—your fathere” “No. I pity him. If I have had no father, he has'hail no chld.” “How do you know?" questioned the officer. “Do’you now know who he is?” Not any more than I ever did,’ the amswered, “But my grandparents 1is history without ever told me :1lin, me his name, and I'know that he has S been happy. And still, he was not a bad man—it was all due to lus mother’s in- fluence,” CH tdle, m,” demanded the his 1 searching L his keen glance. *‘In 1s 1Ly *‘No, no,” answered the chief. “It was only my horse that started at the reflec- tion of ‘the moon in a pool of water. And you were saying it was all his mother's fault?” “Soit seems. He was of a noble family and wealthy; and, nevertheless, he wanted to marry the woman whose atlections he had gained and who was on the point of becoming a mother. Unfortunately he gambled, and one night he lost a swum so at he could not pay it, and had to to his mother for assistance. She ““I am willing to save you, but only on condition that you leave the woman you are now living” with and marry the one Iiutend for you.”” It was no use for him to make remonstrances; the old lady was inflexible. Not to pay the debt was to be forever dishonored—she knew the fact and took advantage of it. 1 he thought himself obliged to yi went away without again se my mother--to whom a lawyer brought 20,000 franes and a letter telling her everything, and begging her forgiveness. It was o fatal blow to her; she had placed all her faith, all her hopes, all her trust in that man t had never for an instant oc- her to doubt the being who had promised her so happy a life and had left ality. She nover recov- ered from it ‘‘And what was your mothe ame ¥’ asked the eaptam,in a tone that he v tried to render indifle “Claudine young m eschal—t and, further- beeause I have not the right to (AT PSSR S Already they had rerched the moun- tain height overlooking the plain, ek ' excluimed the captain, ‘“Here wre."’ “And my instractions?" asked_the sol- dier, gently. 8 The ptain's cye flashed as he an- ur cloak! give me your helmet, qu I 5 Eb? the trogper exclaimed in bewil: L. derme ! HObe; you,are under orders!’ And lightly defing his oflic form, he flung on the cloak 1 him by the stupefied trooper, and seized the helmet. 1 “Now, your disbateh!” The astounded yputh drew the envelope from his leather bag and gave it up. “Now," communded I?lu ofticer, ‘‘re- ni Wit for me.” “You are under orders!” And putting’ spurs to his horse, the ptain disappea¥ed in the night. Two hours have § The clouds havd melted awa; nd the moon, freed from her veils, shit clearly and calmly in the horizon, bathing the land in ligat. Suddenly upon the silence there bursts the crash of a far-off fusiliade. Ten, quul?'. & hundred rifle-shots—resound ing like the detonations of an im- mense display of fireworks. Then cries shouts—a great indistinet mor which the wind brings to the sentry's seat; and wore shooting—this time ncarer, At last a muflled, rapid, irregular sound approaches over the plateau. Itis the gallop of a horse. The soldier’s tramed ear has recognized it at once. ierre Seneschal grasps his rifle, re- solved to sell his life dearly. Suddenly a horseman appears in the moonlight, and the Chasseur sturts. Itis his captain! Bureheaded, his face covered with CPTEMBER VISIT DURING 5N - ORENT A-clicn Sale! 18836.-TWELVE PAGES. THE FAIR. s e .C & CO. Nos, 108 & 110 North I4th Street, 2000 LUCK “To Dealors who han- $10 WHITE Sewing Machine ZERRUNG, THORNTON & CO. Wholesale&Retail 21 North 15th 8| Omaba. tho WALTER'S MUSIC And Jewslry House Mas n & Hamiin s und Organs SPond Planos heot Music and 1512 Douglas Streets Fall Millinery, A Tull Latest Styles Now Ready At No. 1414 Douglas Street Irs. C.F. Hickmn! Line in AID for the CHARLESTON SUFFERERY The Nebraska Clothing Co. Intended having their Opening sale Saturday, September £1h, but owing to time consumed in placing their imanense stock, were compelled to defer the opening until Monday, September 6th. At which time they will open for sale one of the most complete stocks of Clothing and Furnishing Goods ever ojfered for sale in Omaha. At the same time they will do « generous deed by donating 5 per cent of all sales made Monday, Sept. 6th, to the CHARLESTON sufferers. The same to be placed in the hands of the Mayor of the City of Omaha to be forwarded to the proper authorities of the unfortunate city. Al goods are marked in plain figures. Remember to secure one of their handsome souvenirs given away to cvery one that calls, NEBRASKA CLOTHING COMPANY, Cor. Douglas and 14th sts FAHOUS RESTAUR'KT, 310 8. 1ith St. Ol und bost in Omuha. Oysteis served Mouls at all bours, ( duy o nd and see us, O. L. BMITH, Prop. blood, his cloak torn by rifle-shots, his left arm, shattered by a ball, hanging powerless at his side—but his eyes bright: Iy glowing with a wild joy—Lle comes at full speed. Reaching the spot where the younfi man stands he leaps to the ground, an pressing him passionately to his breast— twining his single uninjured arm sbout the 1 ‘7‘3 neck—he eries out in a loud voice, broken by sobs: “My son!" - Nothing Mercenary About Her. St. Paul Globe: “I'll keep this dia- | mond engagement ring, in breaking the engagement, “I'm surprised, ' remark mule 1 contract, “‘that you ep anything that will member of the soci should wish to ki remind you constantly of me.” *I keep it,” she continued, s she toyed with the gold band and its spaskling set ting, “not for its intrinsic wvalue, simply as & reminder of Low big a flirt a man can be."” *'If that is the case,” said he, “and you donot want it forits value, I will ex- change it and give you & chéaver keep- sake—one that will not tempt you to wear, but will keep just as well as'u gen- uine diamond.” e -——— Mme. Vialard, upon whom the French military medal has been bestowed for dis- tinguished services upon the field of bat- tle, is & widow fifty-tive years old, and is, as she has been for thirly-tive cantiniere of the 181st regiment. but | n Kans. | week and inquired of the owner of For the purpo of all kin abiove g of enring plaint and Inactiy Nlamation and r Iubricate the knos downward journey. : n natural 5 atonce restored. This plant has b Chinese to destroy the constipating ef te ‘_;'l and make tl well as a flavoring for their food, as’it has a most delicious flavor. million ot Chinesc in_ A iing fresh air. Nearly } owels and deranges the show as s Jurabo, Their all lghly seasoned with Sweet oo | ctus, but it permanently cures the Bowels, Liver and Stomach. atarrh, Liver Complaints and Female We not how bad or how long standing. ses with Roots and Herbs X am also plasing within the reach of all th Remedy in the world for the eure of Constipation of the Bowels, Liver Com- y of the Stomach— 8weet Cactus. the lubricating power to the Gl , Omaha. DR, J, ABUNDI, French - Italian SPECIALIST, Is permanently located at 220 N, 16th Street, Omaha, Neb, knesscs I permanently cure (he CONSULTA- most valuable Come and sce me. This plant destroys all in- ands of the Bowels, which m slippory us they puss on their winding, stion and permancnt health to the bowels , eleht-tenths of whom live in cellars, all of them are sluves to opium, holo system n long known and f y used by the ct that opinm has upon the bowels, ns The which constipates nd yet o sick Chinaman is as grea 1th is all owing to thew diet, which is HIS PLANT IS NOI' A CURE-ALL, When these work right, all is well; whon they don't, all'is wrong T'will send a pack nent eare in man Twenty-fiv send to any of Lacorhe: 28, by oxpre Cof le Servant, Wall Street in a weste ranger arrived one dy SHS 10w viu eant stere what the rent would be per month. “For what purpose®’ was asked. T open o private bank “Can’t have it at any price, sir,” suid go of this valupble Rer or mail on the C wally, and is very pleasantin its taste. DIt dy, sufli nt to produce a perma. sceipt of (51.25) One Dollar Har and Fifty Cents, 1 will :nt 1o cure the worst case 59) One oS, suflic th owner. “I have rented it to three ent parties for that business, and in fier the depositors had | run "om down ‘and brought 'emback to be lynched, # crowd atuicked the build g and damuged 1t $500 worth, My nde viee to you, sir, is to drop the private Danking business and open a butchers shop.”