The Canadian Crescent. (Canadian, Tex.), Vol. 2, No. 12, Ed. 1 Thursday, January 17, 1889 Page: 3 of 8
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THE CANADIAN CRESCENT.
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TKEBMAB ZS. VILLEB, Editor * Pnb'ft
PUBLISHED EVER* THURSDAY AT
CANADIAN. - TEXAS.
THÉ "HORRID GRIND."
The funny man sat at his desk one day
And sharpened his pencil long,
Then started to write with all his might
Tlie words of a rollicking song;
For the managing editor, stern and grim,
In planning the work that day
Had said in a solemn tone to him,
To 44 drive dull care away
From the readers' minds," so he'd begun
To grind a column of boisterous fun.
He punned on his worn and threadbare coat,
Then glanced at his shabby hat,
And quickly, with nervous hand, he wrote
A laughable joke on that;
He thought of his suffering babe at home,
And his eyes began to gleam
With humor bright as his hand would write
Some fun that would make men scream;
Then he thought of his sad wife's anxious tears.
And wrote some jokes that would live for years.
He wrote his joke, and verse, and pun.
Pure coin from humor's mint,
Nor paused 'till the task was fairly done
And he hud finished his stint;
Then quietly crept out into the night,
And home to his sad-eyed wife.
And with her he watched for death to smite
His child, and end the strife;
For while his pencil had laughter bred
His brain was tilled with a terrible dread.
And so it happened that the very next day,
While readers far and wide
Laughed long and loud in a boisterous way.
He sat at a coffln's side.
The world moved on; but little it recked
His sorrow cruel and keen;
To furnish folks fun was all they'd expect
From the brains of a hired machine;
So seiz ng once more his pencil then
He stifled his sorrow to grind again.
—Hurry J. STieltman, in Journalist,
EARNING AN EDUCATION.
How Mark Triumphed and Made
His School a Success.
When Mark Jasper was a sophomore
in a New England college he used to
look forward with much pleasant
anticipation to the day of his gradua-
tion. After that he would be on his
own hook, and he could set to work to
make his fortune. As long as he
could remomber he had always been
anxious to be engaged in that under-
taking. But it happened quite unex-
pectedly one day while he was still a
sophomore that Mark's father died
and he was left without money. He
s:it before the fire with his chum, Joe
Travis, several evenings, wondering
what he could do.
"It's all up with me/1 he said, de-
jected, "I can't graduate with the
class."
'•Borrow money, old fellow," Joe
insisted. "Get your life insured and
give Hie policy as security.1'
"There isn't a soul who will lend
' me a dollar. I have got to give up
and go home."
It turned out, however, that instead
of going home, Mark set off one De-
cember morning resolved to teach a
district school during the winter on
one of the islands along the Maine
coast. "Probably I haven't got muscle
enough to keep order," he admitted;
"but I am going to try it at any rate."
He was small and slender; the school
was reported to be difficult to manage,
and the undertaking he knew was not
a trifling one. While being whirled
along in the cars all of the morning
and part of the afternoon he had plenty
of leisure time to think of it, worry
over it, and wonder what sort of a
place the island would prove to be.
First was the journey in the cars
seventy miles or more, then a long
ride in an old rattlebox stage over a
rough, frozen road, and finally a trans-
fer to a wheezy little steamboat which
carried him away, from the mainland
about dark. When he saw the lights
begin to disappear behind he felt as
though he was taking leave of all the
world, and he hastened down to the
miniature cabin homesick and gloomy
enough.
But there happened to be in this
smoky little place an odd-looking,
jovial, sea-faring old man who before
many minutes put Mark's melancholy
to flight.
"Wai, yes, now, you see, that's just
the way it was," he was saying in a
sonorous voice to three buriy fisher-
men when Mark caught sight of him.
"•Those pesky crabs climb up the rig-
gin, to the cross-tree and sot down for
the rest of the voyage."
"Oh, no, now, you don't mean it,
* Uncle Seth," said one of the listeners,
breaking into a loud laugh.
"Yes I do," the old man declared—
*4yes I do."
He was sitting under the glimmer of
a lantern, and Mark could see that he
had a broad, weather-beaten face
fringed with a short white beard. He
wore a tarpaulin hat, a loose pea-jack-
et, and he had a wooden leg which he
rested across a stool. The sailor's
yarn he had begun to spin he went on
with, protesting now and then that
every word of it was the honest truth;
and Mark was so amused by the narra-
tive that he soon joined the fishermen
in laughing heartily. Indeed, the ex-
traordinary adventures of those crabs
-were worth remembering. The man
who could tell a story so well was a
pleasant one to meet; and Mark was
much pleased, when lie arrived at the
island and inquired for the school
agent, to discover that the old man was
the identical person.
" Sure's you live I'm the man," he
said. "Hooker—Uncle Seth Hooker,
that's who I am; and I'm the keeper
of the Point Light over yonder. Gath-
er up your traps and come right over,
for I reckon you'll board along with
me. Most of the teachers has."
Mark swung his heavy carpet-bag
over his shoulder and started off with
him across a rough, stony field in the
direction of the light-house, which
was plainly visible every time its re-
volving light flashed toward them. He
was going to see something a little
strange at any rate, he thought, rather
pleased with the expectation of a new
experience.
"I suppose you expected me to-day,
Mr. Hooker?" he asked, when they
had picked their way along in silence
a few moments.
" Wal, yes; now I come to think of
it, we did," the old man answered.
"But I reckoned you'd be bigger, you
see, and I didn't notice you much in
the boat. Ever been down in these
parts afore?"
Mark confessed that he had not.
" Ever kept school among the fisher-
men any wheres?"
"No."
Mr. Hooker hobbled on and said
nothing more for some moments, evi-
dently thinking that Mark was not the
sort of teacher to try his hand in that
region.
" The boys 'mongst us here are a
tough set," he said. "Takes a stocky
sort of a fellow to whollop them.
Mebby you'll do, tho. 'Tisn't always
the biggest toad in the puddle that's
the spry est."
They had arrived at the door of the
house attached to the lighthouse, and
Mark did not attempt to reply, but fol-
lowed him in silently.
"This is the teacher, Sis," the old
man said, introducing him to an el-
derly woman with a thin, sharp face
and faded red hair, who was prepar-
ing the table for supper. My sister
Cynthy, Mr.—Mr.—"
"Jasper,'' said Mark.
1 "Yes—Jasper. Wal, I hope I make
you both acquainted."
Mark took off his overcoat and sat
down before a blazing wood fire in a
largo old-fashioned fireplace; and
while the old man was bustling
around and the sister rattled the dishes
in a neighboring closet, he had an op-
portunity to look around.
What attracted his attention first
was the floor, which was painted to
represent waves dashing here and
there. Next he noticed that every
thing was lashed either to the
floor or to the wall, the same
as in the cabin of a ship, and as
if a gale might be expected any
moment to upset the house. The
brass door-knobs were polished, and
there was nothing that showed the
slightest hint of dirt. A cleaner room
could not be imagined, and Mark be-
gan to feel comfortable and at home
before he had been seated in it five
minutes. The tall, ancient clock in a
distant corner seemed to have a friend-
ly tick; the fire was hospitable and the
table looked inviting.
At last the old man. or Uncle Seth,
as it was soon discovered he was
called by every body, announced that
Sis said supper was ready and in-
vited Mark to move up and help him-
self. Sistar Cynthia soon joined them,
and then Uncle Seth fell to eating and
talking. He had sailed the seas ever
since his youth and was full of stories,
ancedotes and good nature. Mark
laughed until he was red in the face,
and soon became the best of friends
with him. Bv the time the meal was
%*
finished Uncle Seth had become so
confidential that he began to confide
to him much of his personal history.
Sitting at one corner of the hearth
and resting his wooden leg across a
chair, he smoked and told about a
long cruise in a whaling ship and then
of a voyage to Australia during which
a water cask rolled on him and
crushed his leg. Since then he had
been aground, he said, pulled up high
and dry.
Before Mark was aware of it the
evening had slipped away and the
clock was striking ten. Uncle Seth
then inquired of Sister Cynthia
whether the teacher was to sleep
" for'ard or up aloft," and, learning
her preference, led Mark to a spare
room, opening off the parlor. There
were green paper curtains at the win-
dows, a peacock's feather drooping
over a small looking-glass, three or
four shells on the mantel-piece, and a
collection of daguerreotypes, framed
in a group, hanging above it. The
room was so chilly, however, that
Mark did not pass many moments ex-
amining these details. He looked at
the diwguerreotypes long enough to
discover that one of them was a pict-
ure of Uncle Seth, taken when he was
a young man, and that another repre-
sented his sister in the bloom of
youth. Then, hastily undressing, he
blew out the light, jumped into a
plump, old-fashioned bed, and soon
afterward was sound asleep
His first thoughts in the morning
were, of course, about the school. He
could see the drab-cólored old building
on a small hill a short distance away.
The smoke was beginning to curl up
from its chimney when he sat down to
breakfast, signifying that one pupil,
at least, was already on hand. With
some anxietjr Mark watched the clock
until it was a quarter of nine, and then
he started to begin his work. Wrhile
he walked leisurely up the hill toward
the school-house, he saw the boys and
girls crowd around the door to look at
him; and as he drew near them they
giggled so much he became confused.
But his embarrassment soon passed off
when he had gone among them and
called them to order. They numbered
thirty-nine—big and little, short and
stout, and they all watched him the
most of the forenoon. Three of the
larger boys in the back row were the
pupils, Mark decided, who would
probably cause him the most annoy-
ance.
No indication of trouble appeared,
however, during the day. Every-
thing glided on very smoothly; and
Mark, sitting near one of the windows,
watched the ships in the distance
dreamily while he heard the big and
the little recite their lessons. It would
not be such a difficult undertaking
after all, he fancied. The location of
the 6chool-house was picturesque and
romantic; it was pleasant to be so
near the ocean; and the effort to teach
was certainly not great. But it came
to pass that these reflections were the
result of inexperience. On the third
day the "tough set," whom Uncle
Seth had spoken of, began the attack,
and Mark had no more peace until the
term was nearly completed. "He ain't
noways big enough to learn us," a
couple of the largest and most stupid
boys declared. "He's agoin' to be put
out right spry."
"It's their old game, young man,"
said Uncle Seth, rubbing his wooden
leg thoughtfully. "Their great idee
in life is to put somebody out; and I ve
always said that the teacher who could
master them would be fit to govern
lloosia."
Mark's first feeling was disgust. To
wrangle with ignorant bullies was not
to his tastej and he was undecided
whether he would not give up the
school at once. They could easily put
him out, of course, if they determined
to do so; and to attempt to fight with
them was no part ot discretion. He
lay awak9 most of one night thinking
about it and got up in the morning
desperately miserable. He could not
return to the college without money
and he did not like to go home defeat-
ed.
"If I could be a giant about a week
I would give a great deal." he said to
Uncle Seth and Sister Cynthia.
"Brains is worth a heap more'n
muscle, though, in the long run," an-
swered Uncle Seth. "When you find
a hump you can't walk right over
you must find a way to go round it,
you know. That's what I've learned
in my time. Jest git around it some
way or another."
That was, in fact, the only way he
could hope to continue the school,
Mark understood plainly; but so far
he had not discovered how to proceed.
He began immediately, however, to
study the characters of the pupils who
annoyed him and to adapt himself to
the necessities of the occasion. By
making an effort to keep them in good
humor he gained time to begin with;
then he managed at recess and after
school to draw them into friendly con-
versation about their trips to the fish-
ing banks, told a good story which set
them laughing, and finally succeeded
in capturing one, named Jake Clinch,
to go fishing with him that night.
Though not quite the acknowledged
leader of the school, Jake was the
stoutest and strongest of them all; and
Mark decided that if he could make a
stanch friend of him the future would
be safe. Sitting out on one of the
ledges in the moonlight angling, he
found an opportunity to become very
social with him. Jake at the first of
the evening, it fell out, took a fancy to
a pearl-handled jack-knife Mark cut
the bait with; and after awhile Mark
made him a present of it, asking him
to keep it to remember him by. This
proved a great stroke of diplomacy.
The next day Jake said the teacher
was a better little "feller" than he had
supposed, and he believed they ought
to give him a show before they pitched
into him. The others did not quite
agree with him; but they hesitated to
do any thing that he would not take
part in, and revolutionary proceedings
were, therefore, suspended for awhile.
"We'll tackle him spellin'-school
night," said Jim Nixon, the most pug-
nacious one among those dissatisfied.
••That'll be the time. Every body will
be around then to see us do it "
Having received a hint from Jake,
Mark exercised all the tact he could
muster in obtaining a postponement of
the customary spelling-school, and, to
the surprise of Uncle Seth and the
neighborhood, a month passed without
there being any riot in the school-
house. The slim teacher was a cuter
fellow than any body had supposed, it
began to be said; and when Uncle Seth
and Sister Cynthia let it be known that
the little fellow was poor as Job's tur-
key and a-tryin' to scrape something
together to get an education with,
some of the rough old fishermen, who
had warm hearts under their pea-
jackets, said: "Those ere boys had bet-
ter luff it a little and not carry quite so
much topsail."
Mark found each day difficult to
manage, though, notwithstanding the
apparent tranquility, and he knew
that the dreaded spelling-school must
take place sooner or later. The best
he could do was to keep Jake on his
side and put it off as long as possible.
The anxiety he suffered from day to
day was more than he had even
imagined before; but he was beginning
to have confidence in himself, and he
meant now to continue the school to
the close, happen what might.
The struggle terminated at the en4
of the seventh week, one snowy Friday
night. Every body, it seemed to
Mark, had turned and crowded into
the school-house. The spelling-school
was at last about to take place. Lan-
terns were hung from the ceiling to
light up the odd assembly, the stove
was got into a red-hot condition ta
drive out the cold, sides for the
spelling-match were chosen, and the
undertaking began under Mark's di-
rection. But it was evident to him be-
fore he had proceeded very far that
the attention of the majority of those
present was not fixed on the words in
the spelling-book. Out-doors some-
body was heaping up snow against the
window nearest him and an uneasy
feeling appeared to prevail within.
When a half hour had passed and he
had become so nervous that it was
difficult for him to pronounce the
words he was giving out the climax
arrived. First there was a loud cat-
call out-doors; next two of the lights
were extinguished, then suddenly the
window at his left was pushed in and
instantly Jim Nixon witji three or four
others leaped over the seats and rushed
toward him.
"Out with him! Bury him head
first!" he heard them shout, and then
a great confusion followed.
Just how it all occurred nobody ever
knew; but by the time Mark recovered
his wits he found himself squeezed in-
to a corner behind Jake Clinch, who
was striking out from the shoulder and
saying fiercely: "Now, then, Jim
Nixon, I gin you fair warnin' I'd stana
up for him, and I will!" In another
moment two big fishermen seized Jim
and threw him headlong out the win-
dow into the snow. That put an end
to the strife at once. The lanterns
were relighted, the overturned benches
arranged and things in general restored
to order.
"I jest want to ask," said Jake, red
as a beet and gasping for breath,
"how many there be in this 'ere
school who want this teacher we've
gut to stay, and how many there be
who don't? The first will stand up if
they've gut any spunk in them."
Mark's friends having prevailed, the
popular sentiment was in his favor,
and every one stood up immediately.
Then, at somebody's suggestion, the
crowd gave three hearty cheers for
the teacher, which threatened to bring
down the building, and afterward dis-
persed, all laughing and talking to-
gether.
Three more weeks completed the
term; but they passed so pleasantly
that Mark was not really so full of joy
when the school was finished as he
had believed he would be. He had
grown to like Uncle Seth, Sister Cyn-
thia, and the little community one way
and another.
At last, however, "the horses of the
sun brought round the long-expected
day," as the Latin poet says, and
Mark stood on the wharf early in the
morning, bidding every body good-
bye. A crowd of the fishermen with
their wives and the scholars were on
hand to see him off. He had shaken
hands and was stepping aboard the
steamboat when Uncle Seth, rather
flushed and flurried, hobbled up and
caught him by the arm.
"Here's a little sunthin' Sis knit,
young man," he said, in a whisper;
"and the folks hereabouts have had a
mind to put a trifle of ballast in it to
keep you afloat. Not much, you know,
but jest a little sunthin'."
One of the silver pieces which was
in that old-fashioned purse Mark has
kept to this day.—F. B. Stanford, in
N. Y. Independent.
—Mrs. Charles A. Doremus, daugh-
ter-in-law of the well-known chemist,
is one of the most successful American
playwrights of her sex. Two of her
plays have been performed by pro-
fessionals, one, "The Circus Rider,"
by Rosina Vokes; the other, "Freaks,"
by Lotta. They are said to show gen-
uine dramatic gifts and a keen sense of
humor.
—Hubby—"A bigger gas-bill than
we've ever had before, you say? Why,
we've been burning lamps all this
moi|th." Wifey—"Yes, but the last
time the gas man was here he saw
the lamps.1'—N. Y. World.
AN ABOMINABLE WEED.
A Western Farmer's Theory of the Cause
of Hos Cholera*
As I was driving along the road one
day last September with one of the
most successful farmers in this section,
he called my,attention to a forty-acra
pasture which was literally covered
with rag-weed, and said: "That in-
fernal weed will take this country yet!
It springs up on the meadows after
we have cut the hay, it takes the stub*
ble fields a^ter we have removed the
wheat and oats, it covers tho pastures
like a forest, it smothers tho potato
and garden patches, it flourishes and
stinks along the highway and
in every spot and corner where
it can find a square inch of
space to stand in, its nastg yellow
pollen fills the air and poisons every
breath. Altogether it is the meanest,
stinkingest and most abominable weed
that ever stuck a root in the soil of
these United States. To successfully
fight it we have two weapon which Í
know of: One is the plow and the
other is sheep. I have fifly acres of
sheep pasture and there is not a rag*
weed visible in it, while my forty-acre
cattle pasture is overrun with the vile
thing.
" Last August I turnee a lot of fine
fat shoats into a twenty-acre field of
wheat stubble to pick up the volunteer
wheat, pig-weed and such like stuff,
and they did finely unfil the rag-weed
began to bloom; then they began to
cough and mope about, and the first
thing I knew they were dying. I took
them out, put them in a clean yard
and supplied ihem with plenty of
fresh water in big troughs, and in a
week or ten days they were all right;
but they had actually lost more flesh
than the best feeding would put on
them in a month. This summer I
turned a lot of sows into my cattle
pasture and they got along all right
and were doing well until that stuff
began to bloom, then thoy began to
cough and lose flesh. I took them out 1
and in about a week they were all
right. I am satisfied that it was the
pollen from the blossoms of the rag-
weed which did the damage. It
seemed to choke, or rather suffocate
them."
In speaking of this matter to anoth-
er stockman, a few days afterward, I
was somewhat surprised to hear him
state that his experience was very
similar. His hogs, running in a past-
ure wherein was a good stand of rag-
weed, were doing well until the weed
began to bloom, then they commenced
coughing and lost flesh rapidly. He
thought they were attacked by chole-
ra, so he hurriedly put them in a clean
yard, administered various remedies
and supplied them with cooked food
for about a week, when they seemed
to have fully regained their health
and friskiness. He returned them
to the pasture, and in a few days the
"cholera" symptoms returned, and one
of them died. Then it struck him that
the rag-weed might be the cause of
the trouble. He yarded the hogs
again, dosed them a little, and they
quickly recovered. He then had the
rag-weed cut down with a mower,
raked up and hauled off. A heavy
rain fell soon after and he returned
the hogs to the pasture, and, though
they remained there until late in tho
fall, not one of them ever coughed or
manifested a "cholera" symptom of
any sort — Cor. Orange Judd, Farmer.
The Cause of Boils.
A boil may attack an}' portion of
the body, but it oftener appears on tho
neck than on any other part, and no
spot seems to the patient so undesir-
able to have it as the very one upon
which it is located. Tho causes of
these painful visitations are not well
understood. They occur not only in
the debilitated, but in those who are
seemingly in ordinary health. Somo
writers assume that they are the re-
sult of a low and depraved state of the
system, induced by general debility,
excessive fatigue, nervous depression,
improper food and exercise, irregu-
larity of the functions of the body and
the like. Not infrequently they appear
in athletes while training. There are
certain diseases, among them diabetes,
during the course of which boils,
singly or in crops, are quite apt to
occur. They are also noted in skin
affections which are characterized by
severe itching; the constant irritation
of the skin seems to invite their ap-
pearance. Certain medicines, when
used externally, are capable of pro-
ducing an eruption of boils. One
writer says: " To judge from previous
observations, I think I may state that
individuals who have a rough skin,
thick, dark hair, and a vigorous growth
of hair, are more predisposed to the
formation of furuncles."—Boston Jour-
nal of Health.
i.
—According to tho statistical report
for 1888 of tbe Evangelical Associa-
tion, just published, that body of Ger-
man Methodists has 141,853 members,
1,159 itinerant preachers, and 1,916
churches, indicating a gain of 4,156
members, 38 preachers, and
churches
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Miller, Freeman E. The Canadian Crescent. (Canadian, Tex.), Vol. 2, No. 12, Ed. 1 Thursday, January 17, 1889, newspaper, January 17, 1889; Canadian, Texas. (https://texashistory.unt.edu/ark:/67531/metapth183594/m1/3/: accessed May 2, 2024), University of North Texas Libraries, The Portal to Texas History, https://texashistory.unt.edu; crediting Hemphill County Library.