The Algona Republican from Algona, Iowa on September 3, 1890 · Page 7
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The Algona Republican from Algona, Iowa · Page 7

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Wednesday, September 3, 1890
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THB REPUBLICAN. A HAt^OOK, PabJUhew. - s i IOWA , &LGONA, 'TIS MONEY MAKES GO. THE MARE fitrtp learning la & spKfndtd tbW; There's strength in erudition, Anil wit and beauty each may bring § Its Bhnro of recognition. But those who take tho pains through lite' Its features to compare know "Those are but trifles In tho strife— "Fls monoy makes the marc no. "Wealth hides a boundless sea of sin Or bouutlOos its features ; •Until the Onoe who dip therein Are qulto respeotod creatures. !For there are wrongful paths in which Tho poor would never dare go That may toe followed by tho rich— "Tls money makes tho mare go. •Oftlraos a truo but poor young mun Will seek the aid of Cupid, But do tha very best lie can Tho ladles vote him stupid, The while some wealthy, witless dunoa Will never have to faro so. They'll all be after him at once— 'Tls money makes the mare go. By many a maiden proud and cold Are scores of hearts rejected, While Others worth their weight in gold By lovers are neglected. Tor those with wealth tho men beset, Their fortunes they would share though HFhoir love-loss bonds bring deep regret— Tte money makes tho maro go. And in the end there'll come a day % When wealth shall lose its power, And all their gold be swept away In one short, fleeting hour. And when they stand on Jordan's brink Their hearts shall deep despair know Who all their lives are wont to think 'Tte money makes the maro go. —Chicago Post. LITTLB~DOT'S MESSAGE. .A Note and a Bouquet for Mamma in Heaven. LESS your heart, she'll be i all right in less than no time n o w," o x- claimed the old doctor. "You go and lie down for a bit, Miss Anna. I shall have you on my hands if I don't look out. I've (riven Miss Mary u sleeping draught, and she's sure to sleep for a. couple of hours. I'll send one of my girls down to watch her, so just you go and lie down." The old man bustled off, and Miss Anna sank down into tho rocking chair with a long-drawn sigh of relief. Of course she was tired—who wouldn't be after ten s«ch days of ceaseless watching, lint, nevertheless, she had no intention of carrying out the old man's advice. Sleep, indeed, while Mary lay there in tho next room almost at death's door. Why, the very idea" was preposterous. What on earth could the doctor be thinking of? She'd never heard— But, strange to say, when presently there was a patter of tiny foot upon the gallery, Miss Anna did not hoar them; and a moment later, when, the door was pulled open, after several vain attempts, and a great flood of September aunshino came flowing into the room, Miss Anna spoke BO words of welcome to the quaint little stranger that stood there craving admission. • It was Tot. Everybody knew Tot thereabouts, oven though sho was such » little mite. She stood there just for one moment, her big, gray oyos fixed in wonderment upon Miss Anna's sleeping form. -Then, as the situation dawned upon her baby mind, sho let the door Blam to behind her and trotted across to the threshold of the room where Miss Mary lay. Miss Mary turned over presently and could scarcely believe her eyes. She must be dreaming, she told herself, and yet, although the blinds were lowered and the room in semi-darkness, there •was a Uttle child over there in the doorway that looked marvolously like Tot She gazed at the little figure steadily fora minute; until the swoet little face beneath the broad block sailor bat stood out distinct and clear, She had a pretty little white dress on, and her two tiny MIS? MA8Y JUU8EJ1 HEBSELF OH OHS EJ> bands were clasped tightly albjgufe a, hog* Bouquet of $9J?f** MiBgMwy.jraised herself <ra oo« el* bowaM "Why, Tofc, tb»s is 'awfully good o* jron Are &U those lovely flowers lot me?" The child shook her head etnphatl* Cftlly until every golden curl was Mi fc-bobbing. "No," sJta saJd, "these is for muzaer. I wants y<u to take th6m, please," Miss Mafy started and grew a shade paler, if that wore possible, "liut, Tot, dear- how can 1, darling. Your mamma, you know, is d-'-is in Heaven." Tot nodded her head and looked up at Miss Mary triumphantly. "I know; that's why 1 brought them) and you is going thoro, too. Nurso Says so, and so did cook. They was talking and Tot was out in tho garden, and they didn't know sho hearded it. Nurse said as of all tho nngols without wings she'd over soon anywhere you was the best she'd ever knowod, and then cook wiped hor eyes with Her apron, and sho said If it was the doctor she'd have hor doubts about it, and oven if it was the clergyman hisself she wouldn't feel quite sure, but she was so doad certain you'd got to Heaven she'd be willing to bet on it. That's just what she said, Miss Mary—doad certain. Only Tot musn't say it any more. Papa says it's slang." Miss Mary tin-nod hor head away so that the child might not soo that she was crying; but sho.ueldouthor hand to her, and by ita focble assistance the child scrambled mp upon the bod. "Tot thought as you was going there sho'd love to send somcflng to muzzer. Muzzor never writes to Tot, you know, never onco sinco she went away. Why doesn't muzzor write to Tot, Miss Mary? When papa goes away he always writes a letter to Tot, all for hor own self. He puts Miss Marjorie Hastings on the envelope, and nurse reads it to Tot out loud. When Teddy and Tom is at school they writes to Tot lots and lots, so why doesn't muzzer write? Muzzer isn' t like cook neither; she could spoil beautiful and cook can't. She could spell 'the cat and the rat on the mat' just as easy, and talk lovely out of a book. Muzzor was teaching 'the cat and the rat on the mat' to Tot just before she went away. Nurse teaches it to Tot now, and when Tot gets stupid ohe raps her over tho fingers. Muzzer didn't do that—never!" she added with a little sigh that was half a sob. There was silence for a little while, and then Tot lifted her head again and her little face was as bright as ever. "Is your trunks all packed, Miss Mary?" Miss Mury could not answer, so the child took her silence for consent. "If you hadn't packed them Tot was going to get cook to come down and help you. Cook packs trunks just boo- fully. Sho always packs Tom's and Teddy's. Sho sits on the top and squeezes thorn down. It's tho only way they can shut the^n. Last time on Tedd's trunk she jumped up and down three times: but if your's Is packed, Miss Mary, you can carry the flowers in your hands. Give them to muzzer with Tot's love and a kiss, and ask her to write Tot a letter. Muzzer will know Daddy Longlegs right away; that's tbe sunflower. Muzzer always called him that He grows right up in the corner of the garden, and Tot had a drefful time pioking him, he was so high up. Tot got a box and stood on that and pulled Daddy Longlegs down. Muzzer won't remember tho rest of them cos they've growed since she went away. But muzzer helped Tot to plant them all, Tot remembers. Tom and Teddy was home for a holiday, and muzzer and all of us went out into the gardens. Tom had a shovel and Teddy had a hoe, and Tot dropped the seeds In. Muzzer had gone away before they corned up, but Tot always remembers to give them a drink just as she told her to. Tell muzzer that we've got a new watering pot now, and Teddy's gone into long trousers, and the little bantam ben has laid an egg. It was a weeny little bit of a one. Tot had it for breakfast. And tell her Tot's'getting adreffully big girl. She corned down here all alone." t "Alone! Across the bridge!" exclaimed Miss Mary, sitting almost upright in bed. The bridge was safe enough for a grown person, even though it was such a wretchedly made affair, but for child like that—why it would be tbe easiest thing in the world for her to slip underneath the railing. Tbe creek was deep just at that point and the current very swift Miss Mary uttered prayer of thankfulness as she thought of tbe child's escape. Then tbe medicine began to assert its sway, and though Miss Mary fought valiantly against it It was as much as she could do to keep awake. "Yp.u'se sleepy, Miss Mary," remarked the child. "Yes," she answered, "I'm afraid must plead guilty. Tot. I'm not at all polite, but you must blame the doctor for that; he's given me some horrid medicine. Make yourself comfortable, Tot, dear. There's your little ro-t chair over in the corner, and Ruperta Ann is in the cupboard. We'll just put the flowers in this vase for the presem until—until I am ready to go." 80 the little chair was brought over to the bedside, and Buperta Ann, a huge rag baby, was brought forward to be pufc asleep. It was a peculiarity of Tot's to talk to her mimic children precisely as. though they .were possessed with ai tbe attributes ot • flesh and blood. She fondled RuperU Ann for a little while, then "reproached her sharply for her extreme wakef ulneqs. Finally she began to slog to her in her sweet treble a lit- song which her; mother had taught * piss Mary opened her sleepy eyes !« an;grfeg as tbe child began to sing, ft was the first time since her mother's death, $hat,Tot bad e?er sung tbfc song. Had often coaxed her to do so, for was by far the pr$Uiest song in all bjby repertoire, -Once up at the 4wiii!# &« boys' holidays, -,. - „" J *tw"*pft«| »* tbe piwq paying lot the thfee children, T$ey • ju*t finked <U«gia«i"Tbe projr Would 'a?Wools* GP»" and bail »n- And then she stopped suddenly; «hi »otild not go on with it Her little lij^ were quivering, and a great lump had erept into her throat. Since then no 6ftc hod ever asked her to sing it, and I consequently Miss Mls.-y was all the ' more surprised to hear her begin it flow of hor own accord. Tho last sight that Miss Mary's tired lyos res tod on was little. Tot, with iuporta Ann's decidedly wooden cast of countenance looking over hor shoulder, as she rocked slowly to and fro, ond ;he last sound that reached her was the horns of tho little song which Tot was singing: '' Robin, robin redbreast, Oh. robin, dear I Robin sings so sw.oetiy At tho closing of the year." Tot sat there for a Ion? time alter Miss Mary fell asleep, but finally she rose, and, with visions of nurse in an irato state o£ mind before her, set out on her homeward way. Miss Anna was still asleep in the sitting-room, and passing put as silently as she had corao Tot losed tho door softly behind hor. She had brought Ruperta Ann with her for company's sake, and she chatted softly to her as she trudged ftlong. She stood at tho garden gate just for an instant and gazed along tho road which lay before her. It was not a long journey oven for such little feet as hers—a stretch of common, then round the corner across tho meadow, and after that, onee the creek was crossed, there was a short out through the garden which would take her right up to the Red House. The leaves 61 the trees about the Red House were crimson with tho ANXA T0H3TED AWAT TO THE WINDOW. touch of autumn, but now as the sun sank down behind thorn they turned to a ruddier glow. Tot looked 'at them and wondered in her baby fashion how long it would take to reach them and nurse. PITH AND POINT. *-After spending afl hour with 4 pret« 4y fool, how refreshing homely people ire.—Atehison Globe. —When tho house dog barks at tbe Milkman in tho morning it is a sure »ign of hydrophobia.—Louisville Cou« fler Journal. —•Only one wolf has ever gone around In a shoop's skin, but many a sheep has traveled for miles and miles in a wolf's •kin—Dallas News. Tho woman who carries pins in hor mouth is supposed to be closely related to the man "who didn't know it wan loaded."—Kam's Horn. —Good advice is worth much more than money, but Jones says that somehow he can not make his creditors see it in that light.—N. Y. Ledger. —"Are you really become a Socialist, Will?" "No, indeed." "But you told Jack you had." "Oh well, I was do»d broke then."—Yankee Blade. —"How clooa your girl treat you, John," asked the mother. "She doesn't treat me at all, mother; I am obliged to treat her every time."—Boston Courier. —When a man thinks himself a genius he lots his hair grow long; when a woman thinks she has a mission to .fulfill in life she c»tf» her hair short—N. Y. Lodger. —A man recontly committed suicido in England because he though this wife was too good for him. This will be queer reading to some Americans.— Barn's Horn. —"Why are you drinking that black coffee?" "Because I have the headache." "Tho headache? Why don't you do as those do who have the toothache? Why don't you get it filled."—Fliogcnde Blatter. —Mrs. Winks—"What kind of a girl have you now?" Mrs. Minks —"A very nice one—ever so much nicer than the others. She doesn't seem to object to having us live in tho house with her at all."—N. Y. Weekly. —After the Dinner was Over.—Null- wed—"What an absurdity it was that a bachelor should reply to the toast of •The Ladies.' He san't know any thing about'em!" Enpeck—"Can't, eh! Why dw you suppose he is a bachelor?"—Bos- tqn Times. —Owner (looking disconsolately down the row of vacant houses)—"Not one gone yet, Marks?" Marks (the agent, briskly).—"No. Something must be done. I'll put 'sold' in the windows of two more of them to-morrow morning." —Harper's Bazar. —Charles—"I don't see you very often lately, George. Where do you spend your evenings?" George—(clerk in business office)—"We've been balancing our tho corner and wnnf^ books ' and there was a mistake of tbiee tne corner ana wen% •.-,,, „„**,« ^,,1 „!,„„,,. Then she turned on. It was after ten when Miss Mary awoke, and her sister was still asleep. When at last she awakened Miss Mary told her of little Tot's visit. "Why, Mary, you've boon dreaming!" she exclaimed. But Miss Mary pointed to tho flowers upon the table. Shortly after that Miss Mary fell asluep again, and she did not realty regain consciousness until forty-eight hours had passed. The first thing she looked for was Tot's bouquet, but to her dismay she found that it was gone. There stood tho table and the vase upon it half filled with water, but the flowers were gone. "Anna," she exclaimed, "what have you done with them? They were better than all the medicine lever had." Miss Anna turned away to tho window that her sister might not see her face. It was no time for parti culars, so sho just said simply: "I sent them back to the Red House. Tot needed them, dear, for the dear little soul has taken the message herself." —N. Y. Sun. AMERICAN TITLES. Nothing 1 Is Too Grand for the Averag* i Citizen of This Glorious Republic. It is a very curious fact that with all our boasted "free and equal" superiority over the communities of the Old World, our people have the most enormous appetite for Old-World titles of distinction. Sir Michael and Sir Hans belong to one of the most extended of the aristocratic orders. But we have also "Knights and Ladies of Honor," and, what is still grander, "Royal Conclave of Knights and. Ladiea," "Royal Area- I num," and "Royal Society of Good Fellows," "Supreme Council," "Imperial Court," "Grand Protector," and "Grand Dictator," and so on. Nothing less than "Grand" and "Supreme" is good enough for tbe dignitaries of our associations of citizen!]. Where does all this ambition for names without realities come fro-qa? Because a Knight of the Garter wears a golden star, why does tbe worthy cord- wainer, who mends tbe shoes of his fellow-citizens, want to wear a tin slar, and take a name that had a meaning as used by the representatives of anoiOnt families, or the men who had m*de themselves illustrious by their achieve* ments? It appears to be a peculiarly Awf ri- can weakness. The French Republican* of the earlier period thought the term citizen was good enough for anybody. At a later period *'le Roi Citoyen"—W>e citizen kin?-—was, 4 common title give* to Louis Philippe. But nothing is too gr&pd for the American in the way of titles. The proudest ot them ail signify absolutely nothing. They do not stand for ability, for public service, for social importance, for large possessions, but on the contrary are of tones t found in connection with personalities to which they are supremely inapplicable. We can hardly afford tP quarrel with « National babit wbloh. if lightly handled, may involve u$ U serious domes- Uq difficulties, The "Right Wprshlp- ful" functionary whose equipage stops at U»y back gate, and whose services are to the health a«4 cam fort my houBdhpld, is « dignitary whom I not qfle^d. { must s^eak with defe|:ejM$ tQ the I cents discovered on the balance sheet, and I've been trying for tho past week to discover whore tho mistake lies." — Bla^o. — An old gentleman who had attained his one hundred and second year was thus greeted by a friend: "Good morning, oMr. Shiles, how does a man feel after he has entered his second century?" "That all depends," my son, said the venerable seer, "that all depends upon how he spent his first one." —Miss Beauty — (at a church fair)— "Don't you want some pen-wipers, Mr. Bach?" Mr. Bach— "Naw— at a dollar apiece, I presume?" Miss Beauty— "Oh, no. The minister said we must not charge more than we thought tho things were worth. These were made by that horrid Miss Pert, and I think they are worth ten for a cent" — N. Y. Weekly. N BELL'S INVENTION. The Telephone the Outgrowth of At- temptg to Aid Hla Mother's lleiirlnjj. A. B. Bennett, in speaking at Dun* dee, Scotland, on the occasion of the inauguration of some local telephone lines, gave some very interesting details connected with Graham Bell's early history, and these were largely supplemented by a cousin of Bell's, who was present. It appears that Bell was always, when a boy, trying to devise some moans of improving the hearing of his mother, who was very deaf. Ho then conceived the idea of passing sound along wires, and this idea, which arose out of his regard for his mother, ultimately became perfected through his devotion to his wife. Bell became a teacher in a deaf and dumb school in Boston, and became enamored of a lady who was partially afflicoted, whom he married. He now applied himself with redoubled energy to tbe problem of transmission of sound, and in the course of his experiments bo succeeded in enabling bis wife to understand conversation and to be understood. Bell tried to push his invention in Edin- Jmrgh with but little success, and afterward turned his steps to London, where he met with more encouragement It is stated as a curious fact that Bell himself did not perceive all the great possi< bilities before the telephone, and looked with scant favor • on the idea of "exchanges," which have since assumed such proportions all over tbe world. Mr. Bennett was strongly inclined to think that, the telephone hod been spoken of prophetically many thousand years ago, and he instanced, among other passages of the Scriptures, that in the Psalms, describing bow "their line is gone through all the earth andtheit words to tbe end of • the world," as hav* ing ft decided telephonic flavor.— Cbl- cajro UU Oi>e Fault. an awfully nice fellow and a good friend of mine, but bo has one grievous fault—be is always quoting French »nd Latin and all the othei language^." "And doesn't know one I suppose?" "That's just it; he does k«ow tbje I dfin'iL"—Judge. >benp WAR REMINISCENCED TM£ GRAY AND BUUE, A quarter of n. tnile southeast troift tho crest of Missionary Hirlgo. ft little apart from th« serne of tho fiercest conft ct, under a <!lumt> ot laurels, at tho close of that memorable battlfe were found two soldiers dead, one in gray and one in hluo. Thpy were fine specimens of young manhood, lying there with smlleson their fiices "as calm .»s to u night's repose," With their hnnds clasped as in n last, fraternnl greeting. There they were burled, side by side, and the plnlt nrbutus blossoms wvpor their lonely graves in 1he early d >ys of Soul htm qprln time, when the mooit-Urds slngnnd bendingInurem whisper to each other of thai, tlrst and last interview on the blood-stnlned sod. I found them sleeplntr side by side There on the mountain hoary, One wore Die blue—how brave he died!— And one the priiy; his story Shone on his boyish lips of pride Tho holy angel's kissing The puin of death had defied— The roll hnih named him "missing." Ho cluspnd the foemaVs hand in his Apart from nil the others, Benenth the liinrels mock-birds sung! "Host well, oh, fallen brother! Tho snbre's clash, the battle's hail, SJittll wnku no more your slumber, Nordrcnni of home, nor songs of love, Blond with tho 1 atllo thunder." It seemed as If tho Gray's cantacn, To b'e.'i 1 } hh brother given, HnO left his own parched lips unlaved Except by dew of Heaven! The Blue's lorn shlrl had stanched the wound— The i-hastly and the gory— Of brother Gray: the rocks around Giive cclio io their story. While tender skies looked down upon '•••' With prusis of rejoicing. • "God's love and brotherhood hath won," Tho very winds were voicing While nil the stars toprnther sang Fur Union yet unbroken, "On« brotherhood I" th') welkin rang, "One banner for Us token I" E. S. L. Thompson, in Leslie's Newspaper. HIS WIFE'S LETTER. Why !%• ou stringin' the poor a Texan, as be came upor party. a ISrave Soldier Deserted From the Confederate Army. A New York letter in the Baltimore American saya: There was buried at Greenwood to-day a man with a curious historj'. Ho had booh a Confederate soldier, as brave as any of his comrades, but ho deserted bis army during the war and was tried by court-martial for doing so. Edward Cooper was his name. For the last year ho has been living at No. 855 Fourth avenue. One bleak December morning in 1803'he was before a court-martial of the Army of Northern Virginia. The prisoner was told to introduce his witnesses. He replied, "I have no witnesses." Astonished at tho calmness with which he seemed to be submitting to bis inevitable fate, General Battle said to him: "Have you no defense? Is it possible that you abandoned your comrades and deserted your colors in the presence of the enemy without reason?" "There was a reason," replied Cooper, "but it will not avail me before a military tribunal." "Perhaps you are mistaken," said the General; "you are charged with the highest crime known to military law, and it is your duty to make known the causes which influenced your actions." . Approaching the president of the court, Cooper presented a letter, saying as he did so, "There, General, is what did it!" The letter was offered as the prisoner's defense. It was in these words: Denr Edward: Since your connection with the Confederate army I have been prouder of you than ever before. I would not have you do any thing wrong for the world, but before God, Edward, unless you come home we must dtet .Last nlfiht I was aroused by little Eddie crying. I called to him und said: "What Is the matter, Eddie?' He replied: "O, mamma, I am so hungry." And Lucy, your darllnK Lucy I she never complains, but she grows thinner every day. Hefora God, Edward, unless you come home we must die! youBMARY. Turning to the prisoner, General Battle asked: "What did you do when you received that letter?" "Cooper replied: "I made application for a furlough—it was rejected. Again I made application, and it was rejected. That night as I wandered about our camp thinking of my home, the wild eyes of Lucy looking up to me, and the burning words of Mary sinking in my brain, I was no longer the Confederate soldier but I was the father of Lucy and the husband of Mary. "If every gun in the battery had been fired upon me, I would have passed those lines. When I reached home, Mary flung her arms about my neck and sobbed: "O, my Edward! I am so glad you got your furlough.' She must have* felt me shudder, for she turned as jiale as death, and catching her breath at every word, sho said: 'Have you come without your furlough? .Go back, Edward, go hack! Let me and the chil- drod go down to the grave, but, for Heaven's sake, save the honor of our names!" There was not an officer on thatcourt- raartia,! who did not feel the force of the prisoner's words, but each in turn pronounced the verdict—guilty. The proceedings of the court were reviewed by General Lee, and upon the record was written: HEADQDARTEBS A. N. V. "The finding of the court approved. 'JTie prisoner is pardoned, and will report to his company- It. K. LBB. ^General. • OR. MARY WALKER, The War Decora of .ThU Moat Eccentric American Woman. As regards Senator Bvarts 1 .bill -'for the relief of Dr. Mary Walker the records of the' War Department do not go far toward substantiating her claim for $10,000. They state that she was. professionally examined and nominally oom- missipned as an assistant surgeon. The language of the report made by the examining surgeon states that Dr. Walker's knowledge of materia medica is not superior to that possessed by any ordinary housewife and that he <Jeeme4 her only competent to act as a, female nurse, Notwithstanding this repo$ she, was assigned to duty a» nominal assistant sui> geon, with tbe, ^if*y-»epof4 Qfaip J»fa»t- ry, then ija the fpoait,;-^ *ljat she might h»ve a qhanoeto ^o though the lines and set ^formation ^b/ en«w»y. Her she endured all the hardships of th« otbof prisoners. Her knowledge of niedietno proved Of great benefit to tb<* tJnion men.••"After 1 & while liberties were given h£r that wdre untisxiah Tho authorities permitted her to walk uj» and down tho prison enclosure on thfe outside. She never walked alone, how* ever, but was always escorted by a huga bloodhound, who was as faithful to the Confederate side as sho was -loyal to the Northern side. lie Would lag along behind until the limits of the walk Were reached, when he Would stop to the front and cause her to turn around again. He could not speak, but his attitude was very significant. This is a fact well- known by all of those unhappy prisoners who wore confined in Libby at that time. Sho was sent North on August 10, 1804, and soon afterward was placed in charge of the female prison at Louisville. Subsequently she was sent to Clarksburg, Tonn., to take charge of tho Refuge Homo. Her commission expired on May 35, 1805. For her services sho was paid altogether $1,203.53. She now draws a pension of $20 a month. Sho is almost blind, and is obliged to use tho most powerful glasses to see. Added to that infirmity sho has lately broken her leg, and is suffering much pain.—Chicago Journal. THE GRAND~ARMY. No Growing Ranks from Which Recruits Can Do Drawn. The Grand Army of the Republic is a unique organization. In tho words of a past commundor-in-chief: "No child can be born into it; no proclamation of President, edict of King, or ukase of Czar can command admission; no university or institution of learning can issue a diploma authorizing its holder to en- trarice; no act of Congress or Parliament secures recognition; the wealth of a, Vanderbilt can not purchase the position; its doors awing open only upon presentation of the bit of paper, torn, worn, begrimed it may be, which certifies to an honorable discharge from the armies or navies of the nation during the war against rebellion." And unlike any other association, no "new blood" can come in: there are no growing ranks from which recruits can be drawn into the Grand Army of the Republic. With the consummation of peace through victory, its rolls were closed forever. Its lines are steadily and swiftly growing thinner, and tbe ceaseless tramp of its columns is with ever-lessening tread; tho gaps in tke picket line grow wider; day by day details are made from the reserve, summoned into the shadowy regions to return to touch elbows no more; until by and by, only a solitary sentinel shall stand guard, waiting till the bugle call from beyond shall muster out the last comrade of the Grand Army of the Republic.—George S. Merrill, in New England Magazine. •'OLD EXCEPTION." A Name Given to a Southern Manufacturer by General Sherman. In Atlanta, Ga., says a Cincinnati Commercial Gazette reporter, who has just come back from a trip through the South, there is an old business man, with snow-white beard and hair, whom every body calls "Old Exception." When Sherman's army invested Atlanta Sherman issued an order that all non- combative Confederates should leave the city within twenty-four hours. This man, who was a founder, called at Sherman's headquarters. "I want," he said, "to remain in Atlanta. I am a business man, and had no hand in the hostilities." "Didn't you cast guns for the rebels in your foundry?" General Sherman inquired. "Yes," was the reply, "I did, but I had to do it. I have large interests here, General, and I wish you would make me an exception; I'd like to stay and look after my property." "Yes," said Sherman, grimly, "I'll make an exception in your case." The Atlanta man's face brightened, and he started to tell a story. "Orderly," General Sherman called, ,"I've concluded to make an exception in this man's case. Tho orders are that all citizens shall leave Atlanta within twenty-four hours. This man must leave here in an hour. If he doesn't, shoot him." Ever since the war this old man has been called "Old Exception," and tho reporter said that it was a perilous thing to ask him w.hdt ho thought of General Sherman. RANDOM SHOTS. MILWAUKEE is to have a soldiers' monument. A AVABNWG against undue physical exertion by those not accustomed to it is contained in a remark of the Chief Surgeon of the National Soldiers' Home at Dayton, O, This physician said that of the 5,000 soldiers in the Dayton home "fully 80 per cent are suffering from heart disease In some form or another, due to the forced physical exertion ot their campaigns.' 4 PHILQ PENFIELP, of Shelby, N. Y., when be went to the war a beardless boy sent his best girl picture of him. self, but it was his name in a' , ,, ,„ in tbe dead letter office d^rJwjVbe war. He sent for the parce},,«si& $pthenow old man the young picture Ijringf a flood of memories of other day% GEJSSUAI, QIUNT'spabiiL bought froan the banks of tfca James;^ifetfaa^ placed these*. In it sioners treated «* j wt , Wwwta, CNtmt, .,__ Meade and Admiral Pgffa? meMji conference, , - -v,"' * AV«BV remarkable w^em&Qia place May J41909, .at Port Qlbwtn, W durinjf GenenO. " ' " • to ifeft rear of HI tortht* f «||t time tb»t dres* «h* **,%

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