Omaha Daily Bee Newspaper, May 21, 1893, Page 19

WAKEMAN WANDERS IN ERIN me Pathetlo Pen Piotures of the Leave- taking of Irish Emigrants, GRAPHIC DESCRIPTION OF ““CONVOYING" erolc Struggles of Simple Folk In Tearing Avway from the Scenes to Which the Henrt Ia Rooted—In Irlah Highway and Cabin. [Copyrighted, 1893.] Losnox, May 8,—(Correspondence of Tire Ber.] Itmay well be imagined that when [£rom 100 to 200 souls leave Ireland for for- pign shoves every working day in the year there are heart and hand wringings innu- imerable, and dolorous mi: from the region of tears. Few families are fortunate enongh to lget away all together. 1f help has come rom America or the colonies; if the passage money has been saved in secret through ears of doprivation by a single person; if an Irish family has after every manner of sacri provided for oue to go to blossed foreign lands that the remainder may, one by one, eventually follow; however the going of all these people may hvaecome about, in every instance there 1s a struggle in tearing way from the things to which the heart is rooted of which we of better fortune and con- ditions literally know nothing. So many of these scenes have 1 witnessed that I have perhaps some little conception of the real bravery of this act of illiterate, un- trained men and women pushing boldly across oceans into untriea, unknown walks and ways, with a love, hope and determina- tion for one's own at the bottom of it all that have moro real herolsm in them than the averago American is ever called upon to exercise throughout his entire life. However lowly, poor and desperately good- for-naught the prospective emigrant may have all his life been regarded among his fellows, the great and generous heart in hose around him melts Into surpassing in- terest ana tenderness when he comes toleave - his neighborhood, and those whom he has 4 been never so little apart of through the bit- ter days that have encompassed all. For every departure reawakens the heartaching memories of other departures, and in every Trish home I ever shared there is an empty chair whose former occupaut is somewhere beyond the sea. If it be a family which is to go, or some elderly man or woman, for days previous to the departure the whole countryside swarms to the cabin; and every man, woman or child of the townland at some time or an- other has come to mourn at the leaving and bid Godspeed at the going. If it be a youth or lass, or young man or woman, as it often is, for few but the very old and very young al left, then, on the evening previous to the departure, every companion, friend or acquaintance 1s certain to appear; and the whole night is passed in what is called “rising the heart” of the departing one. The custom s|>rlnrs from the same kindly quality of extending cheer to those who « mourn, that originally lished the cus- tom of the Irish ‘‘wake,”” which many good people choose to persistently misunderstand @nd condemn. At this gathering for “rising the heart" of the emigrant the Irish peae- ant's character is in a most tenderly inter- esting state for study. Kvery one arrives in & hushed, embarrassed mood ;: and every one brings some little token of affection and re- gard. Tho poverty of these folk aloue pre- vents outlandish generosity. One stealthily appears with yards of sced- oake; many with thimblesful of tea;somo with' gewgaws and trifles of jewelry: tho eonttail pockets of another wiil bulge with bheartsome potatoes: housewives arrive with great methers of milk, others with schowders, or oaten cakes, crisp and toothsome, still others with schrahags of shills, a hearty mixture of potatoes, beans and butter. and some with apronsful of peat, for the slender resources of the family must fever under these trying ' circumstances be drained. And the lads and lasses who come with pressed Irish flowers and ferns, and rigs of hawthorn and bunches of the dear shamroclk, with gifts of ribbons, and bits of this or that prized possession, are not to be eounted at all. "So, too, come those with looks of triumph snd secroted bottles of poteen, that ‘‘never #ot a touch,” that is, are guiltless of the ex- ciseman’s desecrating seal; for ‘‘grief is ever droothy” surely. Then the night is passed in eating, feasting and drinking. Loads of Zinmble fare are there; occans of tea: and timely drops of the “‘rale mountain dew.” Tales aro told; songs aro sung; sometimes they dance to the music of an old tramp fiddler who has been impressed into service. But the chords of mirth are minor enough the night long; and smiles, laughter and ‘brave prophecies are all touched and chast- ened by honest Irish tears. ‘When morning comes, and those whose ¢ imperative duties call them to their homes ave said good-bye with almost the same read, ‘veverence and pathetic forlornness as whon lowering the dead into the grave, the rustic ceremony of ‘‘convoying” is be- gun. The subject of all this attention be- ' comes for the once, if for only this once in a lifetime, the hero or heroine of the hour, @ chests, or plethoric bags, or whatever constitutes the luggage of the.emigrant, is sent on ahead in some neighbor's proffered cart, friendly riots for the honor of the ‘mournful privilege often occurring, or are ung over the backs of shaggy donkeys, a ore more than necessary always being in readiness for this friendly mission. If a whole family are to go the farewells to the wrotched old hut which has housed them is something pitiavle beyond descrip- tion. Ifitbebuta single member of the household, the good-byes to the old, oo fecblo for the journey of ‘‘con'y: more pitable still.~ These soparations are often too great a load for such, and many a withered branch of the impoverished family treo breaks and falls into the earth from the keen, sharp sorrow. But if girsha or bouchal, the pride of the loved home, are departing, the maelstrom of emotion as the ‘*‘convoy,” or accompanying procession, sets forth, is beyond the power of man to reveal. &n many occasions during my wan- derings about in Ireland I have come upon these oxcited crowds, as they were starting the home, as they. straggled down mountain boreen, as they lagged and wailed along the great stone highway, or as they neared some railway station whence tho emigrant must depart to the seaport city, and making mysclf ono of the motley *‘con: ers,” ave thus tramped with them os upon their sorrowful way, Bometimes these grewsome processions will come from a point a score of miles away 4n the mountains, or remote valley districts, and though no one has ever seemed to think these touching and characteristic scencs worth a place in Irish literature, they uro common enough from all points and on all ways from which either Moville, on Lough ¥oyle, in the north of Ireland, or Cork and Queenstown may be reached, and, heayon pathetic enough to appeal to the whole worid through artist's pencil, or the tmost talented word-painter's pen. Away up in the Donegal highlands, in the country of “Colleen Bawn,” where that thetic and true tale threads and thrills rough Irish heads and hearts today with the same wonarous power as when it w. mew, theso hours of parting are seasons of storms and tears. I have frequently been at ¢abins where neighbors in scores and Bundreds had kept up the parting doleful cheer foran en week, and where the itensity of regret and grief took on such ild omghuu At tho end that those who ‘were to have gone missed their sailing day stoamer at Moville, when all the sad iness was necessarily repeated, folk, however humble and e e & -0l E?:-Ivl. Both in thals sl vidatis st uality and uy Ir strong, long legs. ludud?ymh fi i by, articany ot peasantry, particularly of south, are frequently dmmln w x'z»rm sometimes ferrety w character, these s wm:ulan!nlxzuoon:ghwu -importance cul wi ters, Rt glowing charac! and with some disdatn, mvisible but -.\“ commissions on the tops of their Leads. s wolrd sight to ses soores of such as thess appearing Around a curve of some mighty mountain road, accompanying the emigrant to Stranorlar, wailing and almost keening as for the dead; halting and em- bracing, often struggling for priority in walk- Ing beside the hero of the hour, and ofte overcome with the violence of their grief as to make despairing rushes with the loved one back toward the old mountain home. 1 have mnn( times fallen in with these cavaleades winding down from the Derry- yeagh and Glendowan mountains, or from the Boultypatrick, Gatigan or Aghla hills, and have walked and halted, and parleved and soothed in common with the honest souls for miles on their way toward the railway at Stranorlar. On one occasion the ‘‘convoy- in party was from the far west, from away over by the howling oliffs of Maghrey bay, where life is very dull and drear at best. It was a crowd whose faces and strange attire bespoke grent poverty children, a lad of 17 and a girl of perhaps 14 wore going away. The mother was to re- main behind until these two waifs could send for her, For the whole company it was the event of their lives, this few miles mountain Journey; and the care for the brave young emigrants, the consideration for the wailing mother and the latter's grief were touching to behold. Half the time the lad's companions had their arms about his neck. The girls would carry the sisters on their shoulders, and in seats made by interlacing their fingers; while the mother and the cuildren’s luggage had been piled in an old squeaking mountain- but, or cart, which was tenderly drawn by hand. The women crowded about the cart with all manner of endearing and reassuring words of comfort, but the poor woman could not be comforted. As she lay prostrate upon the bundles, there only came from her white lips the endless moan, *‘Crosh orrin!-—crosh orrin! My pastchee boght!—my pastchee boght!” " (May the cross encompass me! My poor children!— my poor children!) Once when wandering in county Galway, down by old Cloghmore 1 saw a stranger "convo{lng"pnr'.y than could be found in any other portion of Ireland. I had been sauntering among the Connamara “knit- ters," “fullers,” poteen makers and anti- quities of the ancient Celts with which this region abounds, and my mind was full of the pagan aud early barbario life whose rude stone monuments were on_every hand. Suddenly lopking down upon the sea, I be- held a scene in keeping with the times of which I dreamed. A fleet of rotten dories, ragged smacks and curraghs, or skin-keeled craft precisely the same as used in these 1:}:nndu 2,000 years ago, was approaching the shore. The occupants wero skinny and white. They were dressed in rags and with little of these. The men wore skin shoes from which the hair had not been removed, which the natives call “pampootas.” The women were barefooted and barelegged to their knees, and their bonnetless heads were covered with great shocks of coarse black hair. It was a Dantean picture of hunger and want, framed in a setting of ancient, barbaric times, They were a party of nearly 100 God-forsaken Arran islanders, accompany- ing a family of emigrants to Cloghmore, whence the latter would walk to the train at Galway. They nearly all stood upright as they neared the mainland and were chant- ing the wildest, most dolorous Celtic strain human ears ever heard. What a host of shuddering reflections this sea pageant of poverty-stricken peasantry crowds upon you! Your eye follows tho dark hore line. Behind are the mountains, Chere are the peasantry and the ruins, Two thousand years ngo, there stood the watch- towers, the raths, the places for pagan pyrolatry. In the valleys were the herds and the helots. The signals flashed from crag to crag. Some savage chief with his thousands of serfs has come to give battlo perhaps to old Beola himself. The bellowing herds are huddled in the glen. The shriek- ing women are herded within the raths, come the fierce invaders by land. skulking along the bays and bights, the {nvaders by sea. Their shields are of rawhide. Their war raiment is of rawhide, Their navy is afloat upon rawhide. Then, slaughter by land and sea, while the day Fire and sword, rapine aud pillage, while lasts the night. The grass grows richer in the valleys for the blood left there that day! They set the departing ones upon shore in silence and tenderly, No words could depict tho agony of that separation. These went forth to unknown dangers in untried lands; those went back to hopeless starvation upon the barren Arran isles. But not atonce. Past old Cloghmore, past Ballynen, yes, past far Caher, the curraghs and the dories and their motley crews followed those that went, wailing farewells, flercely shrieking grahs and straining their eyes until tho last fluttering rays disappeared beyond the Con- namara hills over agamnst ancient Galway. Not until then did they, still waiting, turn toward the hovels among tie howling Arran rocks. 1 can never forget a “‘convoying” incident and its strange outcome which I witnessed, and indeed in which I participated. I ha been visiting the battlefleld of Aughrim, where, on that awful Sunday of 1691 was a battle such as we who have been in battles know; where Ginkel's hosts, in that mad charge upon leaderless heroes, ruined the fortunes of the Stuart dynasty; and where the whirlwind of death which swept over Aughrim’s morass and bog set the final seal of sorvitude, but never of servility, upon the people of Ireland; and, turning 1nto the old Dubliu and Galway road, towards Ballina- sloe, was at once one o a singular “convoy- ing" party from the rural districts of Kil- reekill, The strangest feature of this, sois ably a friendly procession, was its double character, and its remarkably coutention- nature. Some tremendous excitement seemed to wildly infiuence both hines of march, On one sido of the way was a bright Irish maiden surrounded and protected, as it were, by parents, relatives and at last two score ag- gressively defensive followers, On the other, was a smart looking Irish youth ina state approaching frenzy, surrounded and restrained from some violent purpose by a like retinue of family, friends aud loyal fol- lowers. Dropping quietly into line behind, among the nimble-footed, least partisan, and one might say commiseratingly-blended fol- lowers, I speedily learned the cause of the otherwise xncx&)h able spectacle, Nora, the aaughter of a Kilreekill peasant, had been wooed by and betrothed to Dennis, son of a peasant of Ballinasloe. The Kilreekill father disliked the match, and, bent on irrevocably breaking it off, had got Nora started thus far toward America. Dennis, wild with grief, had scoured Long- ford barony for friends, for a rescue; and ail the way from Kilreekill the factions had at- tacked each other, retreaced, parleyed, blarneyed, scorned, truced ; and so it went on again to Garbally hamlet, when a cheer of hope arose in the ranks of Dennis' follo ~ers, for down the hill from behind, a sight to do Cupid’s sorry eyes good, ne & host of ‘‘the byes" from about Oghil and Keltomer. These rushing down and reinforcing our side—and Isay “our side,” for in some way I found myself giving an elbow to the cause of Den- nis—we made as flue a rally and sally as any one would joy to see; captured the blushing and willing Nora; bore her triumphantly into Ballinasloe, and had her safely and se- curely married to Dennis by an obliging priest within glorious half hour thereafter, EvGan L. WakEMAN, On Hore, come i A Queer Pigmy Chinaman, There has arrived. in Soochow, says the Celestial Empire, a microscopic prodigy twenty inches in height, aged ol years, and sporting a flowing gray beard almost as long as himself. The small man has a ‘‘cocky” sort of way about him which is all his own, and is dressed in English fashion—coat, hat, boots and all. He tells the gaping crowds of bumpkins who unceremo- niously jostle the city swells in their eqfernen to hear him speak that he hails from the Dwarf Kingdom of the western ocean, and he emphasizes his wformation by a flourish of a bamboo tobacco plne which is much taller than himself. But when desired to give a imen of the hnmuqo of the country of his nativity he regales his audience with a choice collection of English m\rml. squeaked out in an uncertain ne of voice, e — Chicago Record: Whatever the znal ac- tion regarding this measure, it will have a great bearing upon |hounr‘?ln.l exclusion act. The oue sup) e other, It re- mains to be seen whether this nation will seriol undertake the enormous labor and f shi the th Sreibitrad Diladnas bk to Clchmmnds ot THOUGRT HE WAS DEAD 8tory of a Bharp Trick Played on General Doubleday. VIEWS OF GENERAL 0. 0, HOWARD A Timeptece Worn by Abraham Lincoln ~Urging Tndians as Soldlers—Origin of Dixle—~A Ghastly Scene—His Pension In Mind, Yesterday T met an old officer of the Second Army corps, which, as every one knows, Hancock commanded, says & writer in an exchange. He told me a good story about Joe Parker. He was a great character. He came from Carlisle, Pa., and of all the wild hawks of the war he was probably the worst. Like a mother who always worships the graceless boy of the household, General Hancock was “stuck on” Joe. Joe Par- ker was a man of strong likes and dis- likes, and if there was any one he hated it was Doubleday. At the battle of Gettysburg there was an accident which gave him a chance to show his hostility 10 him, Hancock was wounded, and Parker, who was his pet, rode off to find Double- day, the ranking officer on the field, and he found him lying under a tree while shot and shell passed over him. The queer boy from Carlisle rode up, saluted the general, who rose to a sitting posture, and said: ‘‘General Doubleday, General Han- cock has been wounded, and you will—" Juet at this second a shell burst in the tree over Doubleday and his staff, when the general fell over on his back, and cried: “Iam dead! Tam dead!” This was Parker's opportunity. He rode off in haste to find General John Gibbon, of whom he was fond, and salut- ing him said: “‘General Hancock is wounded and carried from the field. General Double- day is dead, and you will take command of this wing of the army.” A few minutes later General Hancock and his staff, with many other wounded officers, were being transported south to Baltimore by a railroad train, when Hancock said to those about him, for he was more severely wounded than the rest: *‘Poor Doubleday! is killed.” “‘Killed!" said an officer who was suf- fering from a flesh wound in the leg; “‘why, I saw him on the field two hours after you were shot.” Hancock was surprised and continued: *‘Why, Joe Parker said he was dead.” The great general sent one of the or- derlies into the front car to find Joe, where he was enjoying himself with some of the boys who were nov injured. Captain Parker returned, in response to the call, when the remarkable man of war said; ‘‘Joe, did you not tell me that Double- day was dead?” ‘Yes, siry I did.” “Well, this officer tells me that he saw him on the field two hours after you reported him killed.” “Well, I know nothing about that,” said Joe. “I only took the old fool’s word for it. He said he was, and I thought he ought to know."” What Might Have Been, Iasked General Howard what he thought of General Meado's failure to make a counter charge when Pickett's division had been put hors du combat, says a writer in the New York Post. He replied in these words: I am not much given to criticising my superior officers whether they be living or dead. The question you ask is one concerning mental constitution or psychology. If Grant had been in com- mand instead of Meade there would have been an immediate advance as soon as Pickett’s division was hurled back. So it would have been if Sheridan or Thomas had been in command. They weremen of 4 different mental make-up from Meade. enoral Meade drew up an order for attacking Lee at Williams- port before the latter crossed the Po- tomac in his retreat, but he cance]led it. Lee had simultaneously issued a procla- mation to the army congratulating them on their recovery from the recent disaster and upon their readiness tofightagain. He had perhaps taken some pains to provide us with an early copy of this document. At all events, General Meade received it and changzed his mind, although some of his juniors, including myself, urged him to attack. But, on the whole, I do not consider it a misfortune that the grand charge was not made after the repulse of Pickett. If Lec's army had been de- stroyed, there would probably have been a restoration of the union on'a different basis from that which came later, I do not think that the north was prepared at that time to insist upon sweeping slavery away utterly. The south was not yet exhausted. It had a deal of fighting power left. It could have pro- longed the war for a considerable time, The question would have been presented to the north, Shall we go on fighting in order to destroy slavery, or shall we have peace with union now? No, I have serious doubts whether it would have been a real advantage to us to have annihilated Lee's army at Gettysburg.” A Relic of 01d Abe, It is, perhaps, a noteworthy fact that Abraham Lincoln left fewer relics be- hind him than almost any other of our presidents. Though his death occurred such a comparatively short time ago, the objects which, so to speak, are per- meated with his personality are exceed- ingly scarce. A token doubly valuable on account of the associations with which it is surrounded is in the posses- sion of Harry C. Campbell, formerly chairman of the Campbell Burner com- pany of Pittsburg, who is temporarily stopping at the Astor house in this city, says a writer in a New York paper, tis a Hall opened-faced gold watch with the case No. 14,064, which was owned by President Lincoln and worn by him during some of the most trying periods in our nation's history, It came nto Mr. Campbell’s possession in a rather curious manner, Charles Heyser of company D, Second United States cavalry, enlisted at Albany, this state, August 11, 1859, He was ud:pointed acting orderly to Adju- tant General Thomas in 1861 and by h{m was detailed as orderly to President Lincoln. President Lincoln kept him busily employed during the war carry- ing messages to the different depart- ments and to the front, and seemed to be mu(;lh‘:uwhm‘il to hlllau Christmas day, , the president g;:mnbd Heyser with the wlwpl:he had n wearing as & Christmas gift. He afterwards took it back and had the in- side case engraved in fine seript ““To C. Heyser, . A. Lincoln, President, 1864," and returned it. i:[eywr carried the watch until February 27, 1889, when, desiring to raise money enough to get to his birthplace in Prussia, he sold it to C. B. Toddof Pittsburg, who in turn, on December 1, 1892 sold it to Mr. Campbell. Mr. Campbell has received & great T am sorry that he many offers for the has refused to sel oce since, but & watoh 18 & ter/#nd was mado Itisa perfect time- stom-winder and by Ligne Droitei. keeper, Indinns Should Shoulder the Musket. Captain P. H. Ray, Eighth infantry, in command of a company of Indian sol- diers at Fort Washakie, in a recent in- terview on the value of the Indian as a soldier, said: ‘I believé and know that the Indian, if properly handled, can be made a good soldier. Tha trouble is that he is generally not so handled. The present practice is to subject him to the methods prescribed for ‘the white man, This is a mistake. You éannot make of him & good imitation of a white soldier. He should be taken as an Indian and trained as such and his original traits and good qualities should be perpetu- ted. cept as to minor regulations, ose relating to food and cloth- ing, he should be governed as an Indian, pure and simple. As to the Indian's ca- pacity for military service there is much adverse criticism. So many have failed in trying to mako a soldier of him that the government is somewhat dis- couraged at the prospect. Sec- retary Elkins, the last secre- tary of war, shared this feeling. What the present secretary’s policy will be I know not, 1 hope, however, that he will not take this view, for Icandidly believe that there is not another influence so Sm- tent for good upon the Indians general l(y asthe idea of allowing them to partici- pate in millitary \\'(»rK. If the govern- ment could only regard the situation as I do it would adopt the plan of eciviliz- ing the Indians through the medium of military service. It is the quickest and surest way and the most humane method that can be followed. I regretv very much to see this failure to recognize the Indian’s military worth, and hope that before it is too late the sentiment and practico of the government may be changed, and that our people may learn to judge them from the standpoint of a friend and not from that of an enemy, I have also found them to be honest, faith- ful and loyal as friends, and in the cardinal virtues to stand, as a whole, equal to any people I have ever been associated with.” Dixie a 'Foh de Wah Song. ‘We had hoped to be able to present all the facts obtainable as to who wrote ‘‘Dixie,” but we have not yet been able to secure the statement of General Long- street, wherein he is said to declare that it was composed and sung years and years before the war by southern cadets at the West Point Military academy. It was but lately that we first heard of this claim of authorship. If General Longstreet’s recollwction is con- firmed by the recollection of others 1t would dispose of other claims heretofore asserted, but we all know that memory is at best a fallible thing, A decade or more ago the Magazine of American History undertook to show that ‘‘Dixie” was the allegea song of a lot of negroes from the south whe were sold into the far south in advance of the approaching wave of abolition sentiment in their old homes. Latcr, statements of several persons were, published that “Dixie” was written in 1859 by Dan Em- mett for Bryant’s minstrels as a ‘‘walk- around.” The late Mr. Siegel of Rich- mond, who was a musician in that troupe, was one of those who were firmly of the opinion that that was the real origin of the song. We are, however, quite ready to be- lieve that Bryant's minstrels who piayed in New Orleans and other southern cities just before the war began, gave the song a southern popularity which caused it to be taken up in the camps and to be- come the accepted confederate national air, A Southern Golgoths, YT think that the ghastliest sight I eversaw,"” said Sheriff Barnes of Atlanta, Ga.,‘‘wasduring the late war on the field of Malvern Hill. I wasin the battle anda more terrific engagement I never wit- nessed. But that is not the exact time to which I refer, About a year after the battlg was fought my regiment was or- dered out into the neighborhood of the same old fleld. We went over the ver, same ground,and there in the open fleld‘: exposed to the torrid sun, were bleach- ing the bones of our comrades who fell in that awful engagement. It was a sight I shall never forget. On every side lay the waste of skulls—skulls of almost every shape and size—a modern Golgotha. **We could not identify them, how- ever, and could only gaze with a feeling of sorrow on the aggregate pile of human heads that had once been full of life and feeling. After the deeper emotions ex- cited by the spectacle had worn away [ thought of the infinite variety of shapes that were presented by the heap. There were no two of the same shape or size, and it was rather a matter of curious though melancholy interest to inspect the different skulls as they lay crum- bling in the sultry atmosphere of that August day.” Thought of His Pension, In a small village in Maine there lives an old soldier who has for many years received a pension from the government, which, with his small earnings by occasional jobs, makes him comfortable. One day, while at work in the house of a neighbor, he slipped at the top of a flight of stairs and fell to the bottom. The lady of the house heard the noise and hurried to learn the cause. **“Why, Ambrose,” she said, ‘‘is that you? Did you fall down stairs?” “Yes, marm, I did,” answered the old man, ‘‘and for about a couyle of minutes I thought I'd lost my pension.” —_— STABBED THE DUMMY, How a Murderous Sleeping Car Porter Was Fooled, The drummer had just finished one of his unequaled stories, and a gray haired man in the smoking compartment with him looked up as if he could tell a stor: himself if he were sufficiently urgad, says the Detroit Free Press. *'Go ahead with yours,” uufgcslcd one of those sympathetic kind of men who know things intuitively. *'It isn’t much,” said the gray haired man modestly. “‘That's what the boy, said when he was looking for the definition of the word ‘paucity,’ but that's all right; give us the nwry," replied the intuitive per- son. “*Well,"” sald the man, straightening up, ‘‘some years ago, when in a certain section of the west the sleeping car was yet a novelty, they had a w}\lm man on one of our roads for a porter. He was a mean fellow, and had & way of domineer- ing around that wasn't pleasant. He wasa coward, though, and was afrad of a man that met him face to face. One night I got on at the town where I lived, and this porter was uglier than usual, So ugly, in fact, that I pulled a gun on him, and at the muzzle of it I chased him up and down and kicked him from one endl oll the car to the other. There were eight or ten passengers in the car with me, and by mldn?‘ht. when the porter was about half drunk and we were reud,yw g0 to bed, they advised me to watch him, as he would probably try to get even by some underhand method. T laughed it off and said L wasn't afraid, but just the same, while the porter was d in & seat in the corner, I fixed ug & dummy to take my lower berth, and I got into a vacant upper on the other side of the car, The [ next morning, about 6 o'clock, I was aroused by some one oalling for the por« ter, but no porter answered. ‘'‘He’s dend drunk out there in the smoker,” 1 sald sticking my head through the curtains. ‘I guess I'll go and see,’ said the in- quirer, and I got up too. “'We found two or three of our party ahead of us, ‘' ‘Hello,’ said one to me, ‘did you have any trouble with the porter in the night? *Of course not,' T said, ‘where is he? **‘Don’t know: thought maybe you had thrown him off the car.’ “But I hadn't, and then we began to look for him, and the conductor ap- peared and he couldn't tell us anything, either. Then an idea occurred to me. ‘Wait a minute,’ I said, and I went back to the berth the porter had made down for me, and throwing open the curtains, I found my dummy covered up comfortably just as 1 had left it, but driven clear “through it, right where the heart ought to be, was a knife at least twelve inches long in the blade. “Then I called in the crowd. ** ‘There,’ I said, ‘do you see the hilt of that kmfe? T'll give $500 to know where the porter is.' ‘“I'he erowd stood aghast for a minute but nobody claimed the #500, and that porter was never heard of again.” ————— A VOCIFEROUS VEGETABLE. Desplsed for 1ts Strength, Yot Possessing Many Good Qualitios. “‘Onions are looked upon with disfavor by many Americans,” said Frank I, Seigel toa St. Louis Globe-Democrat are too vociferous in man. “‘Onions their odor and too sell assortive to bo liked by anyone possessed of a very strong will. They offer too much oppo- sition. There is more to the onion, however, than its mere odor. Onions are a kind of all-around good medicine, and every house wife knows this with- out knowing why. She knows that a solid red onion, eaten at bed time, will by the next morning break the sevoerest cold. She also knows that onions make a good plaster to remove inflammation and hoarseness. But she does not know why. Ifanyone would take an onion andmash it, 50 as to securo all of tho juice in it, he would have a most re- markable smelling of salts—an odor that would quiet the most nervous person in no time. The strength of it in- haled for a few moments will dull the sense of smell and weaken the nerves until sleep is produced from sheer ex- haustion. It all comes from one prop- erty possessed by the onion and that is & form of opium. ~Onjons are narcotic in their tendencies and for that reason the very best kind of food. Any one who eats a late supper and imagines that he will not be able to sleep had better order a dish of fried onions and close his meal with them. There will be no danger of wakefulness then, The amount of opium in a saucerful of fried onions will over- power the most sensitive digestive or- gans, even when disturbed by.a late meal, and one can sleep just as well as though no meal had been eaten. The Chinese understand the onion better than the other nations of the earth. A Chinaman will mix dried onion sprigs with tobacco and smoke that. They probably find it lends additional charm to a genial pipe and brings on that con- dition of dreamy wakefulness which is the final end of all smoking.” —_— ‘Mr. A es, PERCURIALE: e says of g “About ten years ago I con- TSRS tracted a severo case of blood pol- son. Leading physiciaus prescribod medicine after medicine, which I took without any relief, T also tried mercurlal and potash remedics, with unsuccessful results, but which brought on an attack of mercurial rheumatism that made my life i RHEUMATISM After suffering four years I gavo up all remedies and began using 8.8.8, After taking several bottles I was entirely cured and able to resume work. ~ 18 the greatest medicine for blood poisoning to-day on the market.” I WAS BIG. IWAS FAT. IFELT MEAN. I TOOK PILLS., ITOOK SALTS, IGOT LEAN. Handsome Women Can Lose Weigh Fast. Homely Men Look Better if Thin. Try Dr. Edison’s System. No Dieting. Band worth Twice the Money. Office of H, M. Burton, llardware, Cary Sta- tion, I1L. Jan. 14, 1803 Dr. Edlsol Dear Sir: T am well pleased with our treatment of obesity. Thoe band s worth wice the money it cnst, for comfort. I hive reduced my welght ton pounds, T welgh 235 now, ana I'did welgh 245, Yours truly, H. M. BUKTON. They Are Doing Me Cood. Earlville, 1L, May 23, 1692, Loring & Co: Inclosed find 82.50 for which please send e the other two botties of Dr. Kdlson’s Obes- ity Pllls. " Ihave used ono andthink hoy are dotng thework. B.M. RALRY, P, O, Box 75. Talk 8o Much About Your Pills, Peorta, 1L, June 18, 1892, Dear Sirs: After hearing one of iny friends talk so Euch about your Obesity P11 eriving from them I think I leaso sond mo § bottles C. O. D., and oblige, J. MORRIS, 400 I'ercy Street. Feel Better andWeigh 13 Pounds Less lltry thew myselt G Gentlemen: Inclosed 1 send you §i, for which you will please send me throo botties of the obesity plils. Amtaking the fourth botile and feel very much better and welgh 13 pounds less than when [ bogan taking them. 1 will continue your treatiuent. Mus. J. C. MCCONN, Bouth Sixth Streot. AD Individusl whose holght s 8 feot 1 inch should welgn 125 pounds 5 feot & inchos “ o 160 6 foet 10 tnchos ) “ moo- Dr. Edison say AT that 1o my experiescs, which considerable, many troublesom coessema, Iazone. arla, of wrily 03uséd by obesity, and s the fat and reduced by the pills and Obesity Fruit Sal action of the band magioally dlss) o Obasiy Fruit Kalt1a used in connestion with the Plits or Bands, or both. One teaspoonful ina of water inakes a dellclous soda. Tastes mpalkne. woll to polnt out nocessnrlly very n diseases such, t i .50 each for any length up to 3§ hes, bafor one Iarger than 36 luches add 10 cents extra for each vdditional inek. Price of Fruit Sait. $1.00. Pllis §1.50 Per Bottle, or 3 Botties 1or $4.00. Eeont by Mall 083 Cat this out and keep It, and spud for our full (8 column) urticle on ¢besif MENTION ADDRESS iflxAUTLY ASGIVEN BELOW. Loring & Company % Hawilton ¥ ., Dopt 23, Oh New York Oty For sale in Omaha by Snow, Lund & Co. 16 State W. 220a 8L, Dept %, . Dopt. %, Boston, Mat ongo, L., & RING World’s Greatest Shows Return OMAH onday, June 9. See Advertisement in Next Sunday’s Beg for list of New and Unique Features! wacr size COMME IL.FAUT THE MERCANTILE CIGAR, BETTER THAN EVERI! 3Made of the fiuest quality of Kavana Tobacto thatean bo bought, EqualIn every respect to the Best lmyorte Agars, Manufactsred by ¥, R, RICE MERCANTILE CIGAR FACTORY. 5t- Louly P AR Palace Office Building OF OMAHA. ABSOLUTELY FIRE PROOE. INCANDESCEN? ELECTRIC LIGHT NOT A DARK OFFICE IN THE BUILDING VENTILATION NIGHT AND DAY ELEVATOR SERVICE o | g BLNG BASEMENT FLOOR: oA FIDELITY TRUST COMPAN ge | WOREST LAWN CEMETERY ASSOOL, N, oas, PANY, Mortgage | GOREST LN B T AN D LR UST 0O MUIR & GAYLORD, Mortgage Loans, Real | REED JOBPRINTING CO, E8tuto and Insurunc STEPHEN A CROWE, Buffot, MCOLELLAND & C0., Uoal, It E CAMPBELL, Court Rotunda, Clgars and WYOKOFF, SEAMANS & BLNEDICT, Rew- Tobucco, ington Typewriters and Bupplies. FIRST FLOOR: P. f. EKENBERG, Fresco Patnter, SUPERINTENDENT BEE BUILDING. ING. WESTERN UNION TELEGRAPR OFFLOR FLOOR. HARTMAN & ROBBINS, C HARTMAN, Tnspootor Fire Insuranoce, N LIFE I NSURANCE €O, 314, Agent Unitod Stutes Acoldens cn B. PRESNELL, Nose and Throat. BLELIFE ASSURANCE SOCIETY, BEE BUSINESS OFFIOE. OCENTRAL LOAN AND TRUST CO. AMERTOAN WATER WORKS COMPANY, FRANO L. REEVES & CO., Contractors, SECOND TS MUTUAL LIFE INSUR- IR, Law Ofoe, a ) MASBSACHUE ANCE O 0, 8, ELGUTTE ISAAU ADAMSE, Law Office. DIt CHARLES ROSEWATER. OHRISTIANSCIENCE REA DING ROOMS, J. W, SQUIRE, Loaus, MANHATT L AWAGN IEA,\iV'l' THIRD FLOOR, w Offlces. I Room NO. 6 ANGLOANEIICAN LOAN ANDEE CoE 00, | | DI £ T BATT IR Dautin N D-, LOA T ol N 3 £ 0.8, HC h . W, SIMERA L, WM SIMERAL: Liw Officen. SR AL ENOAN Attcrney. THE' GRANT "AsPHALL PAVING AND EQUITY CO oom NO, 7.” * BLAGOLITHIC CO, FOURTH FLOOR, PACIFIO MUTUAL LIFE AND ACCIDENT | CONNECTIOUT MUTUAL LIFE INSUR- INSURANCE U0, ANCE (O W A WE ETARLETON LAND UO. Flre [nsucanve. . WEBSTER i) L0, g HAMMOND TYPE TER CO, ARTE ' AN » e . WESTERN OAR SRS VICE ASSOC(ATION, OMANA TITLE AND INDEMNITY 0O, . BLACK, Oivil Englueer. A N PICINE. Uouzt Stenographer. Solleltors of Patents, ATIONAL PUB Llfll“&fil AND POR~ AND BUILDING ASS0- = 5 = 33 < = % A {ACKENRERG, Manutacturers' ). GOSS. OUoal FINDLEY, Architect. FLOOR., Agent GE. nting Agency, E. P, EVANS, People's Investmont Co. FIFTH DEPARTMENT ] J. M. BRUNNER, R ARMY HEADQUAKTERS, OF THE PLATYTE. SIXTH FLOOR. DRI VALLEY GRAIN CO, ?‘”Asl’:(ljl‘r'l'(;l\ l.uAfi & TRUSTI CO, (uu?:w-';,'{:thuxufig..nlml'n-l:::l;u Olls, TR b "Barher Show, VANGON ERNMENT PRINTING OFFIORS, SEVENTH FLOOR. ROYAL ARCANUM LODGE ROOMS, | flgfi EDITORIAL :OOMS, BEE COMPOSING ROOM. O. F. BEINDURFF, Architect. MANUFACTURERS AND CONBUMEKS AS- BOCIATION. A few more elegant office rooms may be had by applying R. W. Baker, Superintendent, office on counting room floor i coeiss e i