The Washington Bee Newspaper, November 18, 1893, Page 4

oer nena maespiahe eT SCARED THE PROFANE KANSAN. John Sherman's Viay of Calming an Ex- cited Westerner in Early Days. Years ago, as many as forty almost, John Sherman, of Ohio, now Si went out to with others, to investigate certain law- less proceedings in that section, says the Detroit Free Press. In the cow of the inve tion one long-whisker- ed, bepistoled native who was before the commission began to express him- self with a profane forcefulness that was not at all complimentary to the Government or its representatives, and Mr. Sherman asked the official sten- ographer to take down the remarks of the gentleman from Kansas. Mr. Sherman then let the angry citizen go on until he had had his say. “Now, look here,” said Mr. Sherman, “do you know you have been making yourself liable to prosecution by what you have said The speaker didn’t care a blankety blank if he had. “Well, do you know what you have said?” inquired Mr. Sherman. “No, I don’t, and nobody else does, but I've said it and stand by it.” Mr. Sherman called on the stenogra- pher to read his notes, and the sten- ographer did so. As the vile language rolled out the Kansan looked puzzled at first. Then, as it came back to him, and he began to realize that he had said those things, and the officers had them down in black and white against him, he became frightened. “Let me see that,” he asked, ner- vously. The stenographer handed him the notes. For a minute or more he gazed at the strange stenographic characters. “Snakes, by Gum!” he yelled, and, dropping the book, he bolted out of the place. Bow Booth Prayed. “Speaking of Edwin Booth,” said an old lady, “reminds me of a story my husband used to tell of a_ memorable encounter with the elder Booth. He (my husband) was travelling on horse- back through the South before our mar- riage, when stress of weather made him take refuge in the home of the great actor He was ensconced in the guest chamber for the night and was just dropping off to sleep as his un- locked door opened. He ted up to see his host enter, candle that « the bed. tread, he asked in a low, deep “‘Haye you prayed to-night? “The guest admitted that his devo- tions had been missed. “Rise, kneel by that bedside and say the Lord’s Prayer, was the next speech. Impressed by his manner, my husband tumbled out of bed, fell on | « his knees and repeated the words of the prayer. “Js that all you make out of the grandest utterance in literature? cried Booth. “And he dropped upon his knees, put his palms together and then, my hus- band used to , in a voice of sur- and melody, began | tion, giving to the familiar such depths of eloquence sentence and such richness of meaning as they had never po: New York Are we to Recome Toeless. That the civilized part of us is chang- © ing our physical structure in answer to the conditions under which we live is a fact to which the poor little toes in the corners of our boots might tear- fully testify if we could consult them in th pirit. This member, which our prehistoric lady ancestors doubtless found aesthetically useful when, while : grasping with the foot an article of | food, they elegantly elevated the little | as the little finger ls ety from the teacup of to- Hen from its high | that in per cent. of men and women the first joint of the little toe has been replaced by a solid, in- i » It is to be supposed that ue for a few more acons to walk with our junior toe doubled up like a leaf in a book we shall some day look all around our foot and find no little toe at all. As the process con- tinues and each rushing cycle knocks off another toe we shall i; in pl fringed pediments on which will r memorative nails erected to those departed mem- which went to join the dodo rath- er than accept shoes that did not fit— And the Girl Langhed. A certain allopathic physician, not more than a thousand miles from a given point in the city of Detroit, has 2 daughter whose steady companion is pronounced homeopath and for ons not at all professional the her doesn’t admire his possible son- finda uw, though the daughter does. , Some time ago the old gentleman found ‘the young man at his house, and think- ping it a good time to settle matters he proceeded to speak his mind very free- ly to the youth. “Well, have you said all you wanted to * inquired the suitor, when the ifather had made a series of uncompli- ‘parte ry and seditious remarks. , ie I haven't,” exclaimed the allo- pathy, anne his second wind; “I want ‘to say that my advice to you is to get out of this house at once and never come back again.” 2 The young man braced up and Smiled. € “Well,” he responded, “you may go to Jericho with your advice. I'm a ‘homeopath, I am, and I don't allow any allopath in ence to prescribe for me. Good-evening,” and the young man sat down so firmly that the old gentleman concluded he had made a mistake and left the ho himself, : Papa Was Tired. The car was crowded, but a delivate- looking man, a lady who Ww evidently his wife, and a little seven crowded ij A the door polite » but the del nding. A been traver corner of th pretty woman in the asked the child if she ! to sit down. .”” lisped the little one, to sit down, but my papa ! He would like to sit in The roar of laughter that went up ‘from the other p: » ‘s made the icken their p and the pret- ot out at the next corner.— zton Post. Of all counterfeits there is none more contemptible than counterfejt humility. THE MAN FROM ST. LOUIS. His Love for Chicago Made Him Sympa- thetic and Generous. It was at the depot in Syracuse, and | a number of us were waiting for our train, when a middle-aged man, who was lame and dilapidated, began to solicit alms. He told some sort of a story about sickness, death, and so on, and about the third man he struck re- plied to him: “Look here, mister, I can put you in the way of making a couple of dollars in about five minutes.” “Heaven will bless you if you will,” said the lame man. “I don’t want to be blessed. Do you see that chap down the platform, seat- ed on his trunk?” “I do.” “He's from St. Louis. Come over here in the corner and I'll tell you how to work him.” The two drew aside, and, after three or four minutes of “private and confi- dential” talk, the lame man limped off down the platform and half a dozen of us followed on to witness the perform- ance. “I beg your pardon, sir,” said the lame man as he halted before the other, “but I am an unfortunate ma “Yes, the woods are full of ‘em,” the reply. “It isn’t my fault. I lent my brother $800 to go into business with in a place ‘way out West somewhere, called Chi- Chi-Chicago. I think that is the name of the town. Ever hear of it?” “I’ve heard there was such a place,” replied the St. Louis man, “but it may have been a rumor. Here’s a quarter to help you along.” “Many thanks, sir. I was going to tell you about my brother. Some one told him that Chicago was a growing vil- lage, and that they were going to move the county seat there. He went into the grocery business, and what d’ye think he did? Laid in a stock of $1,000 worth right on the start—a stock big enough for a town of 10,000 peo- ple.” “Did, eh? I guess I can spare you another quarter.” “He might possibly have pulled through, but it rained a good deal, and the farmers couldn’t get into town for the mud, and most everybody was trad- ing on store orders, and so the sheriff closed him out.” “But didn’t you save anything from the wreck?” “Not a dollar. That is, I haven't got anything out of it yet. I can't even get a letter to my brother there.” “Why not?’ “’ve written no less than four, and they all came back marked ‘Misdirect- ed.’ I've been trying for a month past to find out in what State Chicago is.” “Let’s see,” said the St. Louis man. If there is such a town, and I am quite sure there is, it is in Indiana. No, I’m wrong—must be Illinois.” “Why, I have been directing to Kan- ;sas. It’s in some county, of course?” “Very likely. I think I can spare you another half.” “Thanks, sir. Did you ever hear the name of the county?” “Let’s see; let’s see. They named a county up there somewhere after a St. Louis barber. It's Cook, I think.” “I put on ‘Cook,’ but as I didn’t even get the State right it made no differ- ence. Will you please write the ad- iress for me?” “I won't guarantee that it will be 2orrect,” said the St. Louisan, “because these new villages spring up like mush- rooms, are sometimes called by three or four names and none of the maps exactly locate them. If I was going to write a letter I should direct it | ‘Chicago, Cook County, Ill, U. S. A., via St. Louis, Mo.’” “Yes, sir. You have put me under great obligations.” “Don’t mention it. Hope you'll get something out of the smash. You don’t look well.” “And I’m not, sir.” “Well, here’s another dollar to help you on your feet. Follow my direc- tions when you write, and if there is such a town out there anywhere the postal authorities will probably look it up. Chicago! Chicago! Yes, it strikes me that I've heard the name somewhere this summer, but I can’t just place it. It’s in Illinois, I think. and was located on account of a stone quarry or something.” His Mirth Saved Bim. “There was a queer character out in Virginia City during the palmy days in the early sixties,” said W. H. Barstow “He was called Laughing Tom. He couldn’t say a word without laughing. and he usually prefaced what he had to say with a series of chuckles that were the most infectious things imagi- nable. “There are hundreds of stories of which Tom is the hero, but one there is in particular which I have never seen printed. One day Tom began playing poker with a miner. The stakes were small, but they were big to the players themselves, as they represented all their earthly posses- sions. It was nip and tuck for awhile. and a pretty good jackpot was being built up, when the miner saw Tom sli: a ecard. He said nothing until the laughing prodigy opened the jacker. bet off the limit and was about to gather in the pot, when the miner quietly told him he had seen him cheat. “‘All right,” said Tom, with his laugh; ‘it was unintentional, I assure you, but take the pot and let’s keep on playing.’ “The miner was agreeable and the play was continued until he caught Tom cheating again. It was the lar- ter-s deal and he slipped two cards into his lap while shuffling the cards. “The miner was as mad as a hornet. not so much on account of Tom's cheating as because of the insult to his intelligence by the bungling style of Tom’s work. Rising and drawing his pistol the miner said: “D—n you, Tom, I'm going to blow the top o’ your head off.’ “Tom looked up into the gun's muzzle and laughed out: ‘You wouldn't kill a feller before the draw, would you “There was no tragedy that da Washington News. That Wouldn't Do “I don’t want bread,” said the fastid , lous tramp, as a generous slice was of- ' fered to him. “Haven't you any cake? “Yes, I have a cake you seem to need badly—a cake of soap.” But the tramp walked away discon- tentedly. Nothing Surprising. Mrs. Skidmore (reading) — Philippa Fawcett, who won such great distinc- tion as senior wrangler at Oxford, is still unmarried. Mr. Skidmore—No wonder. | THE REPORTERS LUCK. How He was Driven Out and wreaked His Vengence on the Editor, “Say!” began the young man as he sat down to the city editor's desk in a chummy way, “have you any It to find with this hat, this $3 gold-headed 00 diamond stud, this $50 suit of clothes on top , of these patent leather gaiters? How , do these $100 bills strike yo on this New York draft for $15,000! Heft this gold watch I planked down $600 for in Chicago the other day! Anything scrubby about me?’ “I don’t see anything,” repeated the city editor, as he Jaid down page No. 3 ' of a city item he was revising, observes the Detroit Free Press. “You bet you don’t! Remember me?” “Can’t say I do.” “Don't you remember one night, about ! eighteen months ago, when a long, lean, hungry-looking chap, who had his coat buttoned up to hide his shirt- less condition, came in and struck you for a job?” “A good many such come in.” “Yes, but I told you I hoofed it all | the v from Buffalo, and could knock the socks off’n any chap in these dig- gings on an obituary notice.” s, I remember now,” replied the editor, as he capitalized the word “Alderman” in page No. 4. “But you had no use for me; said | your paper was devoted to live topics instead of obituaries. Ha ha! good joke! Don’t you remember of adv me to give up the journalistic str and go to dr ig a street car? of you—very kind. Shall never forget lit. I struck you for a quarter and you anned out two shingle nails. a bunch of keys and a poker chip. Felt sorry ; for you—’pon my honor I did. Would | have let you in later on, but had for. gotten your name.” “Well?” wearily queried the city edi- |tor, as he faintest two excl: ; and a comma into a mad dog item “Well, I went West. Struck K: just in time to boom. Thought of } !all the way out there. Couldn't strike 'a street car job, but I did hit an old {chap who wanted to sell 300 acres of land mighty bad. Hit a man in V j ita for fifty cents and struck keno three times. Then dropped into far and came out $800 ahead. I'd taken i | istic struggle. See?’ “Got a surveys or—platted the town of Silver City—got out circu dyer- tised in 600 papers—gave ay 100 lots —sold off 4,260, and here Tam. Clean ed up about $27,000 inside of 'and a half—all new greenbacks |am now on my way to Europe for 2 | tour before going into an orange grove ‘spec. ia Florida. Say, old man—come along with me—Liverpool—London— Pa Venice—Berlin. You are look- ‘ing yellow about the gill ‘ozone will do you good. Just a little run for six months, you knov rt gaul- leries—cathedrals—towers—the Rhir the Alps—store clothes and fi hotels all the way round. What d’y say?” I can’t afford it,” answered the city editor, as he marked the comical pro- ceedings “O. KX.” and laid the manu. script aside. “Poor boy—poor boy! How many years have you been at it?” | “Twenty.” ' “And still wearing two-shilling ties, a tweed suit, and looking as if you hadn’t had a square meal for a month! Say—sive it up—put on your coat and go home.” ‘Do you mean my situation?” “Yes, and journalism, too. You a failure. Give up the struggle and dri a street car or hitch on to a buck saw and try and work yourself to the top! Sorry for you, but you are out of your element. All my dollar cig: are gone, but here are a couple of fifty-cent ones, which I will leave with my best wishes. Would like to stay longer, but I sail from New York day after to- morrow. Bye-bye, old fel, and don’t ; be discouraged! Always a chance for | an ambitious street car driver to climb up, you know. If you need my infin- ence cable me, care of the Roths- childs.” And when he had departed the city editor leaned back and stared at the wall for a long five minutes without thinking. When the clatter of the copy box coming down from the composing- room finally brought him back to ear th he sighed drearily, put away the ci so carefully wrapped in tinfoil, pie ered up the sheets lying about, and whispered to himself: “Too late! All the booms have bust- ed. Wish I'd thrown the blamed cuss down stairs for his cheek!” and the How He Had Fun. “You can’t always tell how grecn a man may be by the color you think he is,” said the drummer, sententiously, and the hotel clerk ran his eyebrows up into interrogation points. “No,” he went on, as if the clerk had put his question iuto words, you can’t. Last week I was in } ey York and one night I went down to sleep by the sea.” “On a bench in Battery Park?’ in- quired the disingenuous clerk. “Of course not,” retorted the ditim- mer; “down at one of the n side resorts. Well, as 1 when I got there and had re at one of the swell hotels, a country- looking citizen stepped up and tuvok my place before the book. He wrote his name, and looked up at the digni- fied and imperious young man behind the counter. “‘Got any rooms, young feller,’ he said, ‘fer about one dolyer per day? “Certainly not,’ was the haughty ““How’s yer rates, anyhow? “Well, you can get a suite for a hundred dollars a day,’ he d with the air of one man expecting to see the other man drop dead. “‘Good enough,’ responded the coun- tryman, without turning a hai iy take that kind for five d: advance. Can you change a bill for me? and he slapped down a new thou- sand dollar William that must hav looked a rd long to the clerk. Whether it did or not, he grew red in the face; said he'd have to see landlord; couldn’t raise over a hund and fifty in change to save his life that es in the season; and while he was g to apologize the country- man stuffed the bill in his pocket and went across the street to another hotel. “That evening I talked with him on the beach, and he said he was nic fixed at $3 a day for a month. x he laughingly told me he carried that bill along with him to slug highfalutin hotel clerks with, and he called it a thousand dollar billie, because it knoci- ed them every time.” abe your advice and given up the journal- | GERMANY’S IRON TREASURES. Vast Stores of Army Kations and Money in K adiness for War. In the fortress of Spandau there is stored the celebrated emergency fund of the German npire—the so-called iron treasure, millions of silver pieces, most of them miuted with the head of Napoleon II. Derived from that colos- sal indemnity wiich victorious Ger- many imposed upon humbled France in the hope of permanently crippling the hereditary foe, the payment of which and recuperation of its loss is the financial wonder of the world, this hoard Ge comed TONEY: is kept for the This treasure is to the St. Louis tDispateh there is no crisis through which the German Empire may pass, save that of foreign war, which makes i ti sum available. The Germans ‘ond of the word “iron” in its sense of rude firmness, of barsh en- durance, of severe tenacity. They have applied it to their greatest histor- ical character—the iron chancellor—to his policy of absolute inflexibility and to their most-prized reward—the iron cross—of which there is but one degree, } and which can be earned only by ac- tual bravery on the field. They have used the word to designate the tre: ure at Spandau and they have a adopted it to characterize an institu- tion in their minute and comprehensiy scheme of military organization to which they attach great importance. When the German army is transform- ed from a huge reserve of precaution- into a massive instrument re force, its units, the indi- vidual soldi: are put into absolutely new i The purposes of this step are numerous. It makes the oper- ation of mobilization more simple and systematic, and with the contingency prolonged warfare it makes the con- tinuance of military operations more There is a sentimental yed—the personal pride of the soldier stimulated and his zeal in service increased. In equipment and accouterment a similar system is followed. The result is that the soldier starts out in the condition practically that he shoula theoret ly. His equipment is a but the knowledge that pound of weight he carries rep- ts something useful to his occu- ion and his comfort and convenience zed in it lightens his load. that he is provided for every emergency. In his knapsack are hi lothes and his store of cartridges. Sach one of his pockets has a particu- lar purpose. The lining of the one on the left of his tunie is medically pre- pared, to be used when necessity arises iseptic bandage. In his hav- his loaf of bread—the staff and the so-called “iron ration.” 2is is the institution to which refer- ence has been made. It is the reserve fund of the sol@er’s food, his suste- nance when deprived of all other re- sources of mess, commissariat and for- age. There is a huge factory in May- ence devoted to the packing of these “iron rations.’ In small bags, in a preserved and compressed shape, these rations consist of coffee, rice. hard tack and tobacco, in a quantity suffi- cient to provide for three days’ use. The cavalry receives in addition simi- larly prepared rations for its horses, consisting of hay and oats sufficient for five days. These rations are to serve only cases of extreme neces- sity. They are sacred whenever the trooper is provided by the commissary department with the necessary food, or when he can procure it by requisi- tion or forage. The “iron ration” can- not be touched except by command of a superior officer. In the preparation of these rations chemical science has been at work, and it is believed in the articles provided the greatest amount of nutrition hasbeen secured in the most compressed and endurable shape. In the grand maneuvres which annual- ly take place in Germany, and in which the soldiers are exposed to every con- tingeney ve that of an enemy's death-dealing powers, the “iron ra- tions” are carried, and their purpose made clear to the men. | while en: He rea | The First Real Beau. The first beau appears along about when we are touching fourteen or six- teen. There have been, of course, many little boy admirers, but according to a writer the genuine gallant does aterialize until we put on long and commence making our- up for young ladies, a compre ve phrase that all girls will under- stand. He is usually the brother of some chum of ours, and in this way enabled to see him more often than if we had had no reason for go- ing to his house. He is exceedingly bashful before peo- ple, but can talk a blue streak when we are alone. He squanders his allow- ances on ice-cream, soda and caramels, and on rare occasions invites us to a church sociable or concert. He is always one of the group of youths who wait outside the church or y-school door, and he is the one to escort us to our homes on such occasions. We are teased unmercifully about him and really enjoy it, though pre- tending to be fearfully indignant and provoked about it. This sort of thing goes on until some- thing happens, as some things have a way of doing, and either he goes away to college or we leave for boarding- school, or perhaps a quarrel or change of residence occurs. At any rate, years perhaps will roll away before we see a bearded man who can bear the slightest resemblance to the young, rosy-cheeked boy.—El- mira Telegram. Where He Worked, The prisoner was before the police judge for the greatmanyth time. “Well,” said his Honor, “you here your Honor,” responded the at's the charge?” “Vagrancy; same as Honor.” “It seems to me you are here about half your time.” “A little uppards, your Honor.” “Well, what do you do it for? Why don’t you work?” “I do, your Honor, more than half my time.” “Aw, now,” said his Honor, good- naturedly, you can tell me truth- fully where you have ever worked I'll let you off.” “At the House of Correction, your Honor,” pd the prisoner, and the Court kept its word. before, your ‘The most certain means not to lose the good that one does is to forget it. CHEAP JOB PALA TING S33 a5 rs We roy oe At the “BEE” Office, 1109 I Street, N. W., where you cau get DODGERS. TICKETS, PROGRAIMES, CIRCULARS. BUsIESS CARDS, VISITING CARDS RECEPTION CAkDS, WEDDING INVILATIUNS, sILL-HEADS, LETTEEADS STAT’& MENTS, CONSTITUTIONS, BY. DRAFZ BOOKS, CHECK B )UKS, & LOWEST CA: PRICES. near 1ltr \T THE Liberal Discount to Gourcus sevevolent Societies, Social Clabs, ‘Ailitary Organizations and Labor nd Trade Unions. ALL WORK READY WHEN PROMISED. We have porcehesed an entire ont t of Nw Type with the most pproved modern styles, enabling ix to execute our work with satis- action to all. We invite you to call and nspect our off-ce, even if you have othing for us to do, BEE PRINTING, CO., 1109 I S'reet. Northwest. BENSINGTON STMPNG QUT FRE Bei i Silly creme of Gio Ieteat interest making a com; for less than d ate plagazine devoted to we wil sen oatpald, to-any Indy whe will send _subscrirtion to the Ma - cochaly ce fectod iy tee ee ee ee eke f= FAM AND HOUSEHOLD. Box 49. a thin cB ADVERTISERS van learn the exact cos of any proposed line o advertising in Americar papers by addressing Geo. P. Rowell & Co. Newspaper Advertising Burssu, 30 Spruce St, Mw York. weet Matin = Ree es Teen RM Asthma, Bronchitis, Get the Genuine Arto Thee opatari of “Wilbor’s Compound Ca Cod-Liver - and ted Lime™ has induced some un} persons to attempt to Pe, a Se ae ot Cate manufacture; Consunyition, should be Seems whee Comes this article. The results of its use are its best recom- mendations; and the proprietor has ample evidence on file of ce tpncen iene ary slous eal laints’. The Dower, as Cures poe ny olds. it Gealers > uade-mack and ‘ifty Cents. Per Veet $5 CASH ~~ AND~AW 59e, Per eek W bay you a fh CITY OF Bowig, ™ 50 CTS, PER WEE, The first opportunit y solored people to seonre Home oo Weekly payments oy "el = 4 week or T'wo Dotlars 5 pecpels = W000 LOTS FOR sate, fn the city of Bowie Maryland. Only 20 minnt rom Washington. Double ta 22 trains stop daily. Fare to a rom Wasnington, only ea cent by commutation ticker, he ju : ion of the Baltimore an aa ie nac and Pope Creek Rutlroud Felegraph aud Express offices, tue best depot on the Buls, Do md Pot era lroad, a sburchesan. howls alr. ady bailt ‘he most beaitutal spor las chy State ot Maryiacd. Titic pry ‘ erly perfect. No Taxes, snd ia chasers vf lots will receive teeir leeds, with certi “ree” ficate of title PRIGE OF LOS OALy ‘TERMS OF |’UKCHagu: iil. dole lars cash und two dollars e munth, wih no ivteresi, ia vasb, 10 per cent discount; yij car 20 per cent dise.unt. Mouey will be advanced ties des:ring tu build, lt a busband purchaser dia, vetore bis purchase is Completed, + deed in fee will be viven to his widow, if the property ous been approved, or if uot. the aluount already paid will be returned ber ‘The atove presents an Opportas nity vever beture offered the Vole ored people of the cy ot Washe lpgtou to secure a valoubi lot, elluer a8 aD Investment or fory home ou monthly payments, ang at the sume time, eviiiled them to a vote and & Voice in the Gore ernwest uf the couutry. Those who appiy rst, will hay ihe Orst Chvice of iots, Aiready many have made Uneir bomes in the “uty ot Bowiy, anu lots purchased on the above ‘ertus should duuvie in vulue wi. b tbe veXt s1X wonths For further wtvrmativn apply w vr CAMPbELL CAKRINGIUD Owner, 505 D di, u, ¥, Wark vgton, Dd ———_______, PLAID SHAWL GIVEN AWAY! State « tes ridy to par aid. oF we w fand's subscriptions to $ro- Satiefaction guaraaiae! Sr money refunie!, Aires © FARM AND HOUSEHOLD 80x 6, Hartford, (oa J. H. Dabney SNDERTAKER & CABINET MAKER. Office 441 L Street N. W. SARRIAGK? FOR HIRE Polerhan 845