Baled Hay. A Drier Book than Walt Whitman's «Leaves o' Grass»

"By and by, Lamb said I'd better quit fooling with the pancreas, and come and help him. Then he advanced a tom-fool theory about an adhesion of the dura mater to the jib-boom, or some medical rot or other, and I told him that I thought he was wrong, and I didn't believe deceased had any dura mater. Lamb flared up then, and struck at me with a bloody towel. I then grabbed a fragment of liver, and pasted him in the nose. I don't allow any sawbone upstart to impose on me, if I know it. He then called me a very opprobrious epithet, indeed, and struck me in the eye with a kidney. Then the fight became disgraceful, and by the time we got through, the late lamented was considerably scattered. Here lay a second-hand lobe of liver, while over there was the apex of a lung hanging on a gas fixture. It was a pretty lively scrimmage, and made quite a feeling between us. I still think, however, that I was right in standing up for my theory, and when an old pelican like Lamb thinks he can scare me into St. Vitus' dance, he fools himself. The fact is, he don't know a gall-bladder from the gout, and he couldn't tell a lobulated tumor from the side of a house. I told him so, too, while I was putting some court plaster on my nose, after he pasted me with an old prison bedstead. Lamb would get along better with me if he would curb his violent temper. I guess he thought so, too, when I broke his false teeth and jammed them so far back into his oesophagus that he got blue in the face. I never allow a secondhand horse doctor to impose on me, if I know it, and it is time Doc Lamb took a grand aborescent tumble to himself."

A FEW CALM WORDS

A LONDON paper tells how when a certain Dean of Chester was all ready to perform a marriage between persons of high standing, the bride was very late. When she reached the altar, to the question, "Wilt thou take this man?" she replied in most distinct tones, "I will not." On retiring with the Dean to the vestry, she explained that her late arrival was not her fault, and that the bridegroom had accosted her on her arrival at the church with, "G – d d – n you, if this is the way you begin you'll find it to to your cost when you're my wife."

That was no way to open up a honeymoon. They are not doing that way recently, and in the bon ton and dishabille select and etcetera society of the more metropolitan cities, such a remark would at once be considered as outre and Corpus Christi.

The groom should stop and consider that sometimes the most annoying accidents occur to a young lady in dressing. Suppose for instance that in stooping over to button her shoe she breaks a spoke in her corset and has to send it to the blacksmith shop, do you think that the groom is justified in kicking over the altar and dragging his affianced up the aisle by the hair of the head? We would rather suggest that he would not. There are other distressing accidents which may happen at such a time to the prospective bride, but we forbear to enter into the harrowing details. No man with the finer feelings of a gentleman will ever knock his new wife down in the church and tramp on her, until he knows to a reasonable degree of certainty that he is right. It may be annoying, of course, to the groom to stand and look out of the window for half an hour while the bride is allaying the hemorrhage of a pimple on her nose with a powder puff, but then, great hemlock! if a man can't endure that and smile, how will he behave when the clothesline falls down and the baby gets a kernel of corn up its nose?

These are questions which naturally occur to the candid and thinking mind and command our attention. The groom who would swear at his wife for being a few minutes late at the altar, would kill her and throw her stiffened remains over into the sheep corral if she allowed the twins to eat crackers in his bed and scatter the crumbs over his couch.

Let us look these matters calmly in the face, and not allow ourselves to drift away into space.

DON'T LIKE OUR STYLE

O SCAR WILDE closes his remarks about America thus: "But it is in the decay of manners that the thoughtful and well-bred American has cause for regret. I have repeatedly said this, but I am told in reply: 'We are still a young country, and you must not be too severe upon us.' 'Yes,' I answer, 'but when your country was still younger, it's manners were better. They have never been equal since to what they were in Washington's time, a man whose manners were irreproachable. I believe a most serious problem for the American people to consider, is the cultivation of better manners among its people. It is the most noticeable, the most painful defect in American civilization." Yes, Oscar, you are, in a measure, correct. Our manners are a little decayed. So also were the eggs with which you were greeted in some of our cities. That may have given you a wrong impression as to our manners and their state of health. We just want to straighten out any little error of judgment on your part as to American customs, and to impress upon your mind the fact that the decayed article which, in most cases you considered our miasma-impregnated etiquette, was what is known among savants as decayed cabbage.

MR. T. WILSON

THE gentleman above referred to has accomplished one of the most remarkable feats known to modern science. Though uneducated, and perhaps inexperienced, he has attracted toward himself the notice of the world.

Though he was once a poor boy, unnoticed and unknown, he has risen to the proud eminence from which, with pride, and covered with glory and sore places, he may survey the civilized world. He entered upon an argument with Mr. Sullivan, knowing the mental strength and powers of his adversary, and yet he never flinched. He stood up before his powerful antagonist, and acquired a national reputation, and a large octagonal breadth of black and blue intellect, which are the envy and admiration of 50,000,000 people.

This should be a convincing argument to our growing youth of the possibilities in store for the earnest, untiring and enthusiastic thumper. It is an example of the wonderful triumph of mind over matter. It shows how certain intellectual developments may be acquired almost instantaneously. It demonstrates at once that phrenological protuberances may be grown more rapidly and more spontaneously than the scientist has ever been willing to admit.

A few weeks ago, Tug Wilson was as obscure as the greenback party. Now he is known from ocean to ocean, and his fame is as universal as is that of Dr. Tanner, the starvation prima donna of the world. Few men have the intellectual stamina to withstand the strain of such an argument as he did, but he left the arena with a collection of knobs and arnica clustering around his brow, which he justly merited, and the world will not grudge him this meagre acquisition. It was due to his own exertions and his own prowess, and there is no American so mean as to wrest it from him.

Thousands of our own boys, who to-day are spearing frogs, or bathing in the rivers of their native land and parading on the shingly beach with no clothes on to speak of, are left to choose between such a career of usefulness and greatness of brow, and the hum-drum life of a bilious student and pale, sad congressman. Will you rise to the proud pinnacle of fame as a pugilist, boys, or will you plug along as a sorrowing, overworked statesman? Now, in the spring-time of your lives, choose between the two, and abide the consequences.

ETIQUETTE OF THE NAPKIN

IT has been stated, and very truly too, that the law of the napkin is but vaguely understood It may be said, however, on the start, that custom and good breeding have uttered the decree that it is in poor taste to put the napkin in the pocket and carry it away.

The rule of etiquette is becoming more and more thoroughly established, that the napkin should be left at the house of the host or hostess, after dinner.

There has been a good deal of discussion, also, upon the matter of folding the napkin after dinner, and whether it should be so disposed of, or negligently tossed into the gravy boat. If, however, it can be folded easily, and without attracting too much attention and prolonging the session for several hours, it should be so arranged, and placed beside the plate, where it may be easily found by the hostess, and returned to her neighbor from whom she borrowed it for the occasion. If, however, the lady of the house is not doing her own work, the napkin may be carefully jammed into a globular wad, and fired under the table, to convey the idea of utter recklessness and pampered abandon.

The use of the finger bowl is also a subject of much importance to the bon ton guest who gorges himself at the expense of his friends.

The custom of drinking out of the finger bowl, though not entirely obsolete, has been limited to the extent that good breeding does not now permit the guest to quaff the water from his finger howl, unless he does so prior to using it as a finger bowl.

Thus it will be seen that social customs are slowly but surely cutting down and circumscribing the rights and privileges of the masses.

At the court of Eugenie, the customs of the table were very rigid, and the most prominent guest of H. R. H. was liable to get the G. B. if he spread his napkin on his lap, and cut his egg in two with a carving knife. The custom was that the napkin should be hung on one knee, and the egg busted at the big end and scooped out with a spoon.

A prominent American, at her table, one day, in an unguarded moment, shattered the shell of a soft-boiled egg with his knife, and, while prying it apart, both thumbs were erroneously jammed into the true inwardness of the fruit with so much momentum that the juice took him in the eye, thus blinding him and maddening him to such a degree, that he got up and threw the remnants into the bosom of the hired man plenipotentiary, who stood near the table, scratching his ear with a tray. As may readily be supposed, there was a painful interim during which it was hard to tell for five or six minutes whether the prominent American or the hired man would come out on top; but at last the American, with the egg in his eye, got the ear of the high-priced hired man in among his back teeth, and the honor of our beloved flag was vindicated.

AN INFERNAL MACHINE

A SINGULAR thing occurred in England the other day, and in view of its truth, and also in order that the American side of the affair may be shown in the correct light, we give the facts as they occurred, having obtained our information directly from the parties who were implicated in the affair. We hesitate to take hold of the subject, but our duty to the American people demands some action, and we do not falter.

During the past winter there arrived in London a suspicious-looking metallic box, with a peculiar thumb-screw or button on the top. It was sent by mail, and was addressed to a prominent land owner. This gentleman had been on the watch for some explosive machine for some time, and when it was brought to him, he at once turned it over to the authorities for investigation. The police force, detective force and chemists were called in, and requested to ascertain the nature of the infernal machine, and, if possible, where it came from.

Experts examined the box, and, with the aid of a cord attached to the suspicious button on top, pulled open the metallic box without explosion. The substance contained therein, was of a dark color, with a strong smell of ammonia. All kinds of tests were made by the experts, in order to ascertain of what kind of combustible it was composed. The odor was carefully noted, as well as the taste, and then there was a careful chemical analysis made, which was barren of result. In the midst of the general alarm, the London papers, with large scare-heads and astonishers, gave full and elaborate reports of the attempt upon the life of a prominent man, through the agency of a new and very peculiar machine, loaded with an explosive, of which scientists could gain no knowledge or information whatever.

It looked as though the assassin was far in advance of science, or at least of professional chemists, and the matter was about to be given up in despair, when the following letter arrived from San Antonio, Texas, United States of America:

"My Dear Sir: – I sent you by a recent mail, prepaid, a small metallic box of bat guano, from the caves of Texas, for analysis and experiment. Please acknowledge receipt of saine.

"Morton Frewen."

Then the experts went home. They felt as though science had done all it could in this case, and they needed rest, and perfect calm, and change of scene. They hadn't seen their families for some time, and they wanted to go home and get acquainted with their wives. They didn't ask for any pay for their services. They just said it was in the interest of science, and they couldn't have the heart to charge anything for it. One chemist started off without his umbrella, and never went back after it.

When he got home he was troubled with nausea, and they had to feed him on cracker toast for several weeks.

We tell this incident simply to vindicate America. The London papers did not give all the proceedings, and we feel it our duty to place the United States upon a square footing with England in this matter. Of course it is a little tough on the experts, but when we know our duty to our magnificent country and the land that gave us birth, there is no earthly power we fear, no terrestrial snoozer who can deter us from its performance.

THE CODFISH

THIS tropical bird very seldom wings his way so far west as Wyoming. He loves the sea breezes and humid atmosphere of the Atlantic ocean, and when isolated in this mountain clime, pines for his native home.

The codfish cannot sing, but is prized for his beautiful plumage and seductive odor.

The codfish of commerce is devoid of digestive apparatus, and is more or less permeated with salt.

Codfish on toast is not as expensive as quail on toast.

The codfish ball is made of the shattered remains of the adult codfish, mixed with the tropical Irish potato of commerce.

The codfish has a great wealth of glad, unfettered smile. When he laughs at anything, he has that same wide waste of mirth and back teeth that Mr. Talmage has. The Wyoming codfish is generally dead. Death, in most cases, is the result of exposure and loss of appetite. No one can look at the codfish of commerce, and not shed a tear. Far from home, with his system filled with salt, while his internal economy is gone, there is an air of sadness and homesickness and briny hopelessness about him that no one can see unmoved.

It is in our home life, however, that the codfish makes himself felt and remembered. When he enters our household, we feel his all pervading presence, like the perfume of wood violets, or the seductive odor of a dead mouse in the piano.

Friends may visit us and go away, to be forgotten with the advent of a new face; but the cold, calm, silent corpse of the codfish cannot be forgotten. Its chastened influence permeates the entire ranch. It steals into the parlor, like an unbidden guest, and flavors the costly curtains and the high-priced lambrequins. It enters the dark closet and dallies lovingly with your swallowtail coat. It goes into your sleeping apartment, and makes its home in your glove box and your handkerchief case.

That is why we say that it is a solemn thing to take the life of a codfish. We would not do it. We would pass him by, a thousand times, no matter how ferocious he might be, rather than take his life, and have our once happy home haunted forever by his unholy presence.

HIS AGED MOTHER

AN exchange says that "the James boys had a morose and ugly disposition." This may be regarded as authentic. The James boys were not only morose, but they were at times irritable and even boorish. Some of their acts would seem to savor of the most coarse and rude of impulses. Jesse James at different times killed over fifty men. This would show that his disposition must have been soured by some great sorrow. A person who fills the New Jerusalem with people, or kills a majority of the republican voters of a precinct, or the entire board of directors of a national bank, or who remorselessly kills all the first-class passengers on a through train, just because he feels crochety and disagreeable, must be morose and sullen in his disposition. No man, who is healthy and full of animal spirits, could massacre the ablebodied voters of a whole village, unless he felt cross and taciturn naturally.

There should have been a post mortem examination of Mr. James to determine what was the matter with him. We were in favor of a post mortem examination of Mr. James twelve years ago, but there seemed to be a feeling of reluctance on the part of the authorities about holding it. No one seemed to doubt the propriety of such a movement, but there was a kind of vague hesitation by the proper officials on account of his mother. There has been a vast amount of thoughtfulness manifested by the Missouri people on behalf of Jesse's mother. For nearly twenty years they have put off the post mortem examination of Mr. James, because they knew that his mother would feel wretched and gloomy when she saw her son with his vitals in one market basket, and his vertebræ in another. The American people hate like sin to step in between a mother and her child, and create unpleasant sensations.

Mr. Pinkerton was the most considerate. At first he said he would hold an autopsy on Mr. James right away, but it consumed so much time holding autopsies on his detectives, that he postponed Jesse's post mortem for a long time. He also hoped that after the lapse of years, may be, Mr. James would become enfeebled so that he could steal up behind him, some night, and stun him with a Chicago pie; but Jesse seemed vigorous, up to a late date, and out of respect for his aged mother, the Chicago sleuth hounds of justice have spared him.

Detectives are sometimes considered hardhearted and unloving in their natures, but this is not the case. Very few of them can bear to witness the shedding of blood, especially their own blood. Sometimes they find it necessary to kill a man in order to restore peace to the country, but they very rarely kill a man like James. This is partly due to the fact that they hate to cut a man like that right down, before he has a chance to repent. They are prone to give him probation, and yet another chance to turn. Still, there are lots of mean, harsh, unthinking people who do not give the detectives credit for this.

BUSINESS LETTERS