The Algona Republican from Algona, Iowa on May 6, 1891 · Page 3
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The Algona Republican from Algona, Iowa · Page 3

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Algona, Iowa
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Wednesday, May 6, 1891
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THE REPUBLICAN. STAtttt «b ItA.T/M>CK, Pnbllnher*. ttoto. my n«i» position. 1 took IOWA. tnents oft the 1 took apart- avenue t furnished them THISTLEDOWN. Sp'rlng on tho Komatt Cauipagiia. tJlowelh like snow |j<rom the gray thistles ^?he thistledown; And tho fiUry-feathers O' the damlr.itcm Are tosse.l by the breessa Hither autl 1.hith«r; Over tho grasses, , The seeding grasses. Whore the poppies shake, . . And the campions waver, • And where the clover, turple and white, fills leivgues with tho f ragrtnoe Of suusweothoney; Hither and thither Tho f airy-feathers O' tho dandelion And Whtto ptilT- balls O f the thistledown, Merrily dancing, Light on tho l)i'eo/8, Wheeling and sailing, And laughing to scorn The butterflies And the moths of azure} Blowing like snow, Or topm o' tho fiea, Hither and thither, Upward and downward. Now for a moment A thistledown •On iv white ball restotU, •Sun-bleached and hollow, A human skull •Of the ancient days, When Sabines and Latins Made all the land here As rod with blood As it now is scarlet With flaming poppies. Now tho feathers •O' tho dandelion, titko sunlit swansdotvn Long tossed by tho wind O'er tho laughter ot waters. Aro blown IIP surf On tt hidden rock— A broken arch Of a Roman temple, Where long, long ago, Tfcs swarthy priests Worshiped their gods, The gods now less than The very dust Whence the preen grass sprlngeth. But for a moment, then the wind takes them, Blows thorn, plays with them, Tosses them high thro' the gold ot tho sunshine, Wavers them upward, wavers them downward. Hither and thither among the white butterflies, Over and under the blue-moths and honeybees, Over the leagues of blossoming clover, Purple and white, the sweet smelling clover, Far o'er the grasses, And gray hanging thistles, Hither and thither Are floating and sailing The fairy feathers O' tho dandelion. Bloweth like snow Tho joy o' the meadows, Tho thistledown. —William Sharp, In N. Y. Independent: A WELL-BEOKEN WILL. What Van Pelt's Picture Did Him and His Pocketbook. for WO years ago I was a h a r d - •c-orking artist, quits content if a week's labor on black and white work brought me a moderate corn- pen s a t ion. 1 had not an ambition beyond hanging a picture at the annual exhibition of the academy. On this I had been working assiduously at spare moments. It represented a man sitting at a table with a jug of beer before him, the very picture of contentment. Under it was the sentiment: "If I had a fortune I'd never leave New York!" This picture was a great success. People got to discussing whether if they had plenty of money it would be possible to fully enjoy life without leaving the island. I awoke one morning to find that one of these idiots, who had taken au pied de lettre what I had Inerely intended as a joke, had suddenly died making his will in my favor, but coupling his benefaction with the proviso that I, Peter Van Pelt, should never leave Manhattan, If I did so the property, some thousands per annum, was instantly to revert to another of his fads, the Society for the Cultivation of Social Ethics. You may imagine that, never hav- tng been able to afford any but the most meager and temporary absences FELLOW PURSUED ME EVERYWHEBB. from the city, this proviso attached to the gift of several thousands per annum was one which didn't trouble me greatly. I only blessed my lucky stars that a crank like Mr. Marstou had existed and had taken the extraordinary view that a man with pl«»ty of funds at his disposal couldn't be perfectly contented in New ¥#*& c|ty. I at once notified the executors ol jny intention to accept the conditions o| the legacy, »nd proceeded u> enjoy life. I threw up all my Jd^fe and white work, neglected the ar^ which had brought me my iortopje, "• expensively, gathered around number of choice spirits, and for awhile actually succeeded in enjoying U&yaelf, I lived on the fat of the land. Things went along swimmingly for nearly a year. The only tiling 1 that marred my enjoyment of my new fortune was the perpetual espionage I underwent at the hands of the agent of the Society for the Cultivation of Social Ethics. He naturally wanted to catch me tripping. He was a small, thin, stealthy man, with the most odious, yellow eyes. At first it was a matter of perfect indifference to me whether he followed me or not, but after awhile I got into a habit of glancing over my shoulder to see if he was there. I was nervous if I saw him and entirely miserable if he was not in sight. O, how I grew to hate him. It was absolutely impossible for me to get rid of this fellow. He followed me everywhere. If I went to the theater and took a box he was sure to be there sitting in the parquette. If I took a seat in the parquetto I had only to glance up to sec him regarding me steadfastly from the balcony. If I went into a restaurant, I ate with tha consciousness that his eyo was upon me. I never spent a dollar, but I seemed to hear him cry: "How much more good that would have done for the advancement of social ethics." The fellow pursued me everywhere. Of course ho was not always in sight, but there was the consciousness that he was perpetually dogging my footsteps. If I went down to the Battery or to one of the wharves in summer to get a little fresh air, he was there, uttering not a word, but saying as plainly as possible by his looks: "Why don't you give this thing up and take a trip into the country? You know this confinement is killing you, and what will be the use of your money then?" I got rid of him for a whole night once by a rnse you will admit was rather clever. My msn servant was not iinlike rne in size and general appearance. I dressed him up to closely resemble me and sent him over to Jersey City. The agent followed him, and that night 1 took the boat to Astoria and had a splendid walk in the country. The very next morning, however, I could tell by his manner that he knew he had teen tricked. You may say what you like about the pleasures of the town. 1 tell you they come to an end at last. There came a time when I was nearly throwing up my contract and getting off somewhere out into the country. It was summer time. A party of my friends had just left that morning for Newport. O, how I detested the city and the hot pavements. I went into Central park. It was the nearest approach to the country I could find; but its trim rusticity only goaded my brain into thinking of shady lanes and real country meadows. Above the tops of the trees I could see the roofs of the houses. I was still in town. I felt so .aggravated on this particular morning that I had half a mind to sit down and write to the executors of the will and tell them I could hold out no longer. I was in the mental act of preparing this letter when I was aroused by a terrible noise beyond some bushes, and the sound of a female voice evidently in great distress. To plunge through the bushes was the work of but a moment. On a green plot of lawn a young girl in a light fluffy dress stood wringing her hands and beating vainly with her sunshade at a confused mass of fur, which I presently made out to be two dogs, engaged in a canine game of fisticuffs. It was all white and black fur, rolling over and over and snapping and biting and barking. It was from this mass that the terrible noise aforesaid proceeded. I understand dogs, and carry snuff. It is a habit I acquired in Rome, where all artists use it. "0, save my dear Benny," cried the girl. Not stopping to identify Benny, I gave the pair of them the contents of the snuff box. Benny immediately tore himself from his opponent and the two animals set to sneezing furiously. As soon as he would let her the girl picked up Benny and -getting some of the snuff started in sneezing, too. For a time there was .a perfect chorus. "Ka-chug, ka-chug, ka-chug," It was so infectious that I also said: "Ka-chug." v. Then the girl said, very coolly; "O, is that you. Thank you so much. What a fortunate thing you take snuff." ' "I am one of the old school," I replied, "and carry it in order to be in the fashion. If you would permit me to wash Benny I will do it with pleasure." We took him down to the lake between us and washed him, I never washed a dog so thoroughly in my life. You see I began to be interested in her and wanted as much as I could possi- bly'get of her society. I knew when I got through washing Benny I should have to leave her. So I nearly drowned the little beggar. I declared he was positively filthy. He was really a remarkably clean dog—but you know love is blind. At last he was washed. Then a bright thought struck me; he must be dried. This we accomplished by sitting down on the grass and rolling 1 the dog over between us, ball fashion- If he did not enjoy it, I'm sure I did- Then the girl got up and said, very sedately: "I think I must go now. It wasn't bad fun, was it?" I declared it was splendid; that I could wash dogs and dry them all day with her. J began to look around for a duenna of some kind, but to ray surprise no one came. It began to da,wp upon me that this (supremely pretty girl, with the charming eyes, had no other protector than Benny. It seemed to be my part—indeed, I felt adwivabjy fl$ted fw it. — " ' "You know Benny might meet Another dog." The glvl burst out laughing. "That's a pretty excuse," she ex« claimed. "Besides you don't know what a contrast you'd have on your hands." "Why?" "Because I live a long- way from here. I live in Brooklyn." "That settles it," I replied, despairingly. "I might have known anything very nice wasn't for me." "Very nice! Really, sir, you are complimentary. What do you mean, pray?" "Simply that I would like like anything to see you home, and 1 can't— can't do it," I. stammered. "No, of course you can't do it, on five minutes' acquaintance." "And then tho will, you know, prevents my doing it. Under the terms of the will, of course I can't leave the city. Why, what's the matter—let me explain, won't you?" The girl had thrown up her hands in astonishment. "To think that of all people it should be you!" she said at last, slowly. "What do you mean?" Why, you're Mr. Van Pelt, aren't PITH AND POINT. WAR REMINISCENCES. "I am." "You are the gentleman who paintsd the picture of the man with the jug of beer, who said he'd always live in Now York. How do you like it?" "I don't like it one bit; but who are you, and how do you come to know so much about my history?" "O, I forgot. Of course you don't know me. I'm Bessie Marston." "What, Mr. Marston's niece?" "Yes." I looked at the girl. Her gaze was bent to the ground. There was just a suspicion of moisture glistening in her dark eyes. "And but for me and my picture yon would have inherited all this money? By Jove, it's too bad. Here, I'll tell you what I'll do, Miss Marston. I'm sick of this life, anyway, and the money is yours, by right. As long aa it was only a question of its going to that infernal society I'd have stuck it out, but now the case is different. I'll go and see the executors to-morrow, Miss Marston, and surrender my claim." "You will do nothing of the kind," she said. "Go back to your club and thank Heaven my uncle was what people call a crank." "I shall thank Heaven for only one thing," 1 said. There was no one in sight. I looked at her and forgot that I had only known her for an hour or two. "I shall thank Heaven for only one thing, and that is that I've met you. Now I can restore to you what is really your own. Do you think I would be so dishonest, knowing as I do that I should be defrauding you out of your rightful dues to keep this money?" She was sobbing softly to herself. "It was rather hard," she admitted, 'to be thrown aside for a whim.' "Don't cry, little girl," I said, "I love you." "That's impossible. You only met me this morning," she answered, laughing through her tears. "No, you must let go my hand." But I didn't. I held it pretty much during the next ten minutes, by which time we had reached the park gate. And, between you and me, I have got it yet. If you ever see a small, thin, stealthy man with a pair of yellow eyes going around anywhere you can tell him^that Mrs. Van Pelt makes better use of her uncle's money than ever I did, and we are both so healthy and happy that the chances of its enriching the coffers of the society for the cultivation of social ethics are exceedingly small.— Austin Granville, in Chicago Journal. —Tom^-"It pays to buy a good wfttcht" Jack—"Yes, you can get all the more on it when you come to pawn it."—Yankee Jllade. —Fussy (savagely)—"I ordered a ham sandwich twenty minutes ago!" Waiter —"Well, boss, it takes some time to cook a hant."—Harper's Bazar. —''What's the matter with that man?" "He fell in a fit," "Where?" "In Fitter's tailor shop." "That's strange. I could never get a fit there."—Yankee Blade. —By™ in Florida.—Henry—"Don't you tliink Stella has a beautiful complexion?" May—"Yes; I selected it for her myself before we left New York." —Bostonian. —Sarcasm is an effective weapon, but it acts like a boomerang when it is applied to his landlady by the young man who is two weeks behind in paying his board.—Somerville Journal. —Malicious.—Professor—"As I see you have written this poem under an assumed name, was your name too good for the poem, or the poem too good for your name?"—Fliegende Blatter. —"See here, doctor, you told me to avoid any sudden excitement." "So I did; it's likely to be fatal to you." "Then why, sir, did you send your bill to me yesterday?"—Fliegende Blatter. —There is a deaf and dumb woman in New York who has no mother. At least we infer that to be the case from the fact that she has had six husbands, and is only thirty-six years old.—Texas Sittings. —An Implied Refusal.—Harry—"Did she positively refuse you?" Jack (dejectedly)—"Not exactly. When I asked her if she ever thought of marrying, she said she had never yet had a man ask her about it."—Epoch. —Tommy—"Can we play at keeping a store in here, mamma?" Mamma (who has a headache)—"Certainly, but you must be very, very quiet." Tommy—"Well, we'll pretend we don't advertise."—Art in Advertising. —Smithly—"Here, Stickler, what is the reason you do not 'tend to your business?" Stickler— "Wfty, I do .strictly." "But it seems that you are always nosing around into other people's business'' "Well, that is my business."— Light. —Her One Charm.—Mr. Blight—"At least one thing can be said of Miss Hoamlcigh. She is very considerate of other people's feelings." Miss Spight— "That is very true. She always wears a thick veil when she goes out."—Chicago Times. —What was Terrible?—Mrs. Hicks —"I had a terrible dream last night, John." Hicks—"What was it, my dear?" Mrs. Hicks—"I dreamed that you were dead. Then I woke up and found it was only a dream. Oh, it was terrible!"—Yankee Blade. —On the Improve.—Fond Grandmother — "Understand Spanish? Speak French and German? What a talented little lady you are, to be sure!" The Little Lady (grandly)—"Yes; and my governess says that aftxsr awhile I may speak English correctly."—Puck. —Dedbroke—' 'It's no use denying that times are hard. I tested the matter thoroughly this morning." Jackson— "How?" Dedbroke—"I accosted a dozen prominent citizens whom I met on the street and asked each one for the laan of five dollars for a short time only. Would you believe that not one of the twelve had that paltry sum in his racket?"—Harper's Bazar. QLINTINGS IN THE WAR CLOUD, PAT AND THE PRI22IDINT.** Spoltcn t<* in his corno PEASANT AND SHEEP. •JCtoe Fetish Man Abroad. When abroad the fetish man is always, a conspicuous figure in a village. He wears a tall hat of animal skin; anound his neck hang suspended by strings a few small specimens of his wares, and slung around his shoulders are little parcels of charms, into which are stuck birds' feathers. Metal rings, to which mysterious little packages are attached, clash and clang as he walks, serving, together with a liberal supply of iron bells fastened to his person, to announce the Nganga's presence; and, as if his body did not offer a sufficient surface to display all his magical outfit, he carries, slung over his left shoulder in a woven pocket, a load of wonder working material. A peep into a fetish man's sack discloses a curious assortment of preventives—eagles' claws and feathers, fishbones, antelope horns, leopard teeth, tails and heads of snakes, flint stones, hairs of the elephant's tail, perforated stones, different colored chalks, eccentric shaped roots, various herbs, etc. There are sufficient reasons for his carrying these with him; if he left them in his village spme one might steal them; and, again, provided as he is, he can administer at a moment's notice to suffering humanity some devil-proof mixture. -^Century. An Inspiration. Rich Miss Passayt-I don't like those you gave mew-ihey are too old. Inspired Hotel CJfrk—Front! Take Uj4y taMf A Fable Which Contains a Useful Wesson One day a Peasant drove his Flock of Sheep into an Inclosure, and was preparing to Denude them of their long and Heavy Fleeces, when a Ewe, which was the oldest of the lot, suddenly Objected and said: "I have long thought this an Outrage on our Rights, and I now Demand to be taken before the Cadi, who will give a Decision." The Peasant, nothing loth, led the Ewe to the Village, where the Cadi (who invented the Cadi hat) was then receiving the Complaints of his Subjects. After hearing both Sides ol the Story he Stroked his long Beard, scratched his right Shin with his leit Foot, and replied: "My Decision is that the Peasant shall not rob you of you Wool." ' "Good! I Knew I was Right!' chuckled the Ewe. "But I further Decide," continued the Cadi as he relieved the Tickling in his Throat with a Cough-Drop, "that the Peasant neither Feed, Lodge nor longer care for you. In Fact, that he turn you out to Shift for yourself. II you are not willing to make him any R^urn he will be a wise man to get rid of yon." JIOBAI-: now as if the Backbone ol was Broken.—Detroit Fr<»e Looks Winter Press. FOOD COMBINATIONS. Why Fruits and Vegetables Should Not B« Eaten at the Same Meal. The reason why fruits and vegetables taken at the same meal do not agree is that fruits are easily digested, while it takes some time for vegetables to become thoroughly disintegrated. The fruits are soon ready to leave the stomach, but roust be retained till the vegetables ar* also ready, and in the time of waiting, the fruits set up a fermentation which is communicated to the vegetables, and the whole contents of the stomach ar« thus spoiled. AH kinds of food, fluids Reminiscence of nn Occurrence Down o» tho Titsmibaw In '04. "0-h!" "Whoa," said Mac, reigning horse. "Why, where did you from?" "Meany!''wastho emphatic rejoinder. "You old, mean, ugly thing. You— you—you—" "Don't cry," said Mac, somewhat abashed. "Have I hurt your feelings?" "Jlush!" with hysterical energy; "Hush yo' mouf, you moan—you—" Here a burst of sobbing interrupted, and Mac staved helplessly, amused, but sympathetic. She was a tiny bit of a girl, with brown, curling hair and brown eyes: a half pathetic and wholly interesting picture-, for the woeful little face was unmistakably pretty. "I'm sorry," said Mac, presently, vaguely enough. "Did the horse scare you?"' "No!" with a sob, "he didn't. "He stepped on my table. N-now, and spill' my—things!" "Oh," sa : d Mac, "down there in the path, eh? That's bad. But it's getting dark, and I couldn't see very well here in the woods." She peeped up at him, pouting, the tears still standing in her eyes. Then she fell to twisting her apron, but deigned no further recognition of his penitence. "You're a very pretty little girl," said Mac, with as much tact as truth. "I have a little girl at home." No answer. "Her name's Mary," he continued. "She's five years old. Now, what's your name?" She looked up again and then grew absorbed once more in twisting her apron. "What's your name?" Mac persisted. Still no answer. "Is it Peggy?" "No," defiantly; "it ain't." "Is it Sarah Ann?" '"Course I. ain't named that." "Well, is it—-" "Name Mary," she informed him, with great dignity. "Peggy runned away las' week—that's when the ole Yankees corned." "Oh," suid Mac; "and your name's Mary? Well, well, well!" "And Pomp hid everything," she continued, growing communicative and looking up into his face, "'cause the ole Yankees come. Right there." "Whew!" whistled Mac, and laughed loud and long. He laughed until the tears rolled down his face. The more he thought of it the funnier it seemed. "In that stump, eh? Well!"—he came very near going into another spasm of laughter, but didn't—quite. "Humph, well." "Tain't funny," she said sharply. "Well!"—checking another outburst and feigning an apology—"well, I guess you are right; but how did you know it was there?" "See mamma and Pomp," she said, "and Pomp put all mamma's money in there, and papa's an' all of us, in there —Pomp did. 'Cause it's a hollow stump an' they's a big hole in there." Mac laughed thoughtfully. "Miss Mary," he said, seriously, "you ought to be at home right now." "I'se lost," she ventured, tearfully. "I know it," he laughed, "and I am, too. Let's see, do you know which way your home is from here?" "Up town," hopefully. "An 1 there's some so'diers up town." "That's the trouble," said Mac, grimly. "Well, I'll carry you as far as I can. Give me your hand, Miss Mary—that's right " \ Just then a shadowy form moved from the shelter of a tree near by, and the figure of an old negro man was seen in the gathering darkness. He carried a gun, which he lowered from his shoulder as he stepped into view, still keeping his hand cautiously upon the trigger. "The dickens!" said Mac. "Were you trying to shoot me? Put down that gun." "You hush," said the little one, resenting the peremptory tone of the Yankee scout. "Pomp's our man: Pomp's ain't your man." "No, Mars'Gin'l," saidPomp, humbly lowering the hammer of his long squirrel rifle; "1 wuz trying not to shoot you. But wen I come 'long yere an' I yere ole Missis' baby tell 'bout that money, I'se mos' 'bleege' ter shoot yer, 'cause ole Missis gimme de watchin' an' the gyardin' on't. An' Marse Jim, 'pens's powerful on me to look arter ole Missis an' de things w'en he .gone away. An' yere I been er watchin' an' er prayin' ter de good Lawd, wid my han' on de trigger, an' jes' er hopin', Marse Gin'l, 'at I wouldn't ha'ter kill yer. An' w'en you laff an' look back you ain't gwine ter take it, hit do look lack de Lawd answer ole Pomp's prayer right den. No, Marse Gin'l, I ain't been tryin' ter shoot you; I been tryin' not ter." "And here we are," said Mac, "fighting to set you all free." "Ain't sayin' nothin' 'bout that," a little shamefacedly, "cep'n Marse Jim 'pens powerfully on me ter take kyar de place w'en he gone." "I guess you're right, Pomp," said Mac, musingly looking out on the darkening woods. "You would only do for your master what I am doing for my mistress—my country. But"—tightening the bridle reins—"take the little girl home; the money will be all right. Where is the nearest ford and how far?" "Hit 'pen's," said Pomp, significantly. "I 'spec' de neares' one fur you, Mars An frlsh Soldier's Joy at Hy Mr. I-lncoln. Col. John W. Woodward relates a itu* taoomis story of the effect upon anlrisb Sentry of a few words from President Lincoln, accompanied with a small gwtuity. Patrick had a spotless military record, as far as it went. He had really secvn some service and had been wounded, invalided and sent among the convalescents to do guard duty at Washington till he should be able to go back to the front. He was inarching up and down in front of the war department w.'.en tho colonel found him, and said:. "By the- way, Patrick, you know yott must present arms to the president." "To tho prizzidint, is it?, an' how will I know him itself?" The colonel tried to describe Mr. Lincoln, and Patrick looked grim. "Suve I'll present arms fast enough if I know him," said the sentry, and with that assurance the colonel had to leave him. Looking from the window a few minutes later he saw the president pass Patrick, who took no notice of him whatever; nor did Mr. Lincoln show that he noticed the sentry. After he had gone in,. Woodward went down to the Irishman, and said: "Why, Patrick, you forgot after all to present arms to the president." "The prizzidint, is it?" exclaimed the sentry, "was he passing me?" "He passed you but a moment ago." "Is it the prizzidint? Sure I seen many a man goin' in, but nobody that looked like a prizzidint." "Well, Patrick, when he comes out I'll follow him and give you a nod, and then you'll know him." "The saints be about yer Honor; it's the rale gintleman ye are entirely," said the grateful soldier; and accordingly when Mr. Lincoln left the war department the colonel followed him and gave Patrick the signal for which he had been religiously on the watch, and on receipt of which he put himsftlf in position and presented arms so ostentac tiously that Mr. Lincoln nearly rail into him, and then with his usual good nature stopped to speak with him, asked about his home in "Injeanny," his wife and the gossoons, and slipped a re- membrancer into his hand as he walked on. Patrick was found paralyzed. "He shpoke to me itself," he said. "His B'yal Highness talked to me. Och, what a story thon will be to write home to Biddy and the b'yes!" and so he went on for the remainder of his guard, talking to himself when he could find no^ body else to talk to about the honor done him by his "B'yal Highness the Prizzidint." In the guard-room he made himself a nuisance, and by night his sudden elevation in his own estimation, aided by all the whisky Mr. Lincoln's gratituity could purchase, set him raving, and they had to put a ball and chain on his leg, and reduce him by a stern course of discipline to his former good character, when at a suggestion from Mr. Lincoln they let up on him, and he returned to duty with a chastened remembrance of "the proudest day of his life, when he talked with his .R'yal Highness thePrizzident."—Wash- ington Post. A Sherman Incident. Sherman was asked to see a review and sham battle of the California national guard. The general complied and was affability itself during the exercises. Finally the other big gun, Gen. Turnbull, asked his opinion of the maneuvers of the force. "Very pretty—very pretty, indeed," said the hero of Atlanta; "but what are those gentlemen doing now*/" "Why they are deploying as skirm isaers," replied the chagrined officer. "You see the troops are about going into action." "Ah, indeed," said the colleague of Grant, in a surprised tone. "That's the idea is it? Yes, they look very well, indeed—very nicely. I was always very fond of tableaux." And the crushed commander fell back and told the staff that he knew at the time 'they were making a fearful mistake in having so much punch at luncheon.—San Francisco Examiner. or solids, are reta ined in the stomach ! Gin'l, is back fo' miles, 'bout middle from two to four hours. At the end of ways 'twixt de big bridge and de f ac'ry the contents are so strongly ' that time acid through the action of the gastric juice, that violent contractions are set up by which the pylorus is opened, and the food is dumped into the small intestines. However, a person with strong digestion, need not pay much attention to food combinations, while one with feeble digestion will find it greatly tfl his advantage to eat at a single meal, only such foods as are digested alika and which require about the eame yasser. ' "AU right," replied Mac, turning his horse's head in the direction indicated. "Good-by, Pomp." " 'By, Marse Gin'l," raising his hat, •'Wish you well, sah." "Good-by, Miss Mary." " 'By," she said sleepily.— N. Y. Herald. THE grand army of the republic expends about a quarter of a million a ear from its relief fund, and up to this e its records show more than 83,000,thus laid out. MILITARY MINUTI/E. THE Ohio soldiers' home at Sandusky has thirteen stone villas, a hospital, an assembly hall and library building, officers' cottages, laundry and other subordinate structures. QUARTERMASTER-GENERAL BATCHELDER has been giving attention lately ta the field music of the army, and is making a strenuous effort to secure bugles, fifes and drums, which shall not <? only be serviceable but melodious. WITH the death of Gen. Sherman the title of general of the army becomes extinct. It was held by three only of our commanders, Grant, Sheridan and Shiji'inan. The head of the army is now a major general. Admiral Porter's title has also died with him, and there is no longer an admiral of the navy. HISTORY will undoubtedly accord Gen. Joseph E. Johnston the most con-* spicuous place next to Lee among the confederate commanders in the late war. His death leaves only about two of the great ex-confederate field commanders among the living. These aro Beauregard and Early. , THE sieges during the civil war «vere Atlanta, Ga., July22, Septembers, 1864; Blakely (Fort) Alu,., April 8-9, 1865; Corinth, Miss., April SO, May 80, 1868; Gaines (Fort), Ala., August 8-8, 1864; Morgan (Fort), Ala., Angust 9-88, 1864; Petersburg, Va,, June 16, 1864, April 8, 1865; Port Hudson, La., May, 84, July, 8, 1868; Savannah, Ga., December 10-81, 1864; Spanish (Fort), Ala,,, March 3T, April 8, 1865; Vicksburg, Miss., May 19, July 4, 1868; Vorktown, Va., Aprils, May 4. 1868.—Boston Budget. IN a lecture on "The Development of • Field Artillery Material" before tha Royal United States Service institution, Lieut.-Col. Walford, ft. A., gave thefol-r; lowing as the chief heads under whicfe he anticipated further progress about to take place, viz.: U|' use of smokeless powder, use of explosives for shells, injcre&se $»l length and, therefore, the shells, employment 4t telAI of <wj,ty ol gws, tu\,

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