The Mineola Monitor (Mineola, Tex.), Vol. 12, No. 17, Ed. 1 Saturday, January 26, 1889 Page: 3 of 8
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IMMACULATE UTTERANCES.
The Grand and Soul Edifying
Divine In an Inspiring and
Realistic Discourse.
His Appropriate Subject Whioh is "The
March Homeward" is Illustrated With
Halloed Ecarnestness—Eager Hun-
dreds are Enchanted.
7 Brooklyn, Jan. 20.—Tho Xiev. T. DoWitt
l'almogo, D. D., having expounded appropri-
ate passages ol Scripture, gave out the
hymn:
"Who arc tlweo lu bright array,
This lnuutncrntilc throng
Round tlic altar night and day
Tunlns their triumphant onK?"
t The subject of tlio sermon was "The March
Homoward," and tlio text I Samuel, Ch. 30,
; v. 8: "Pursue; for thou shalt surely over-
take them, and without fail recover all."
Br. Talmage said:
/ There is intense excitement in the villago
i of Ziklug. David and his meu are bidding
good-bye to their families, and aro off for
tho wars. In that little villago of Ziklag
the dofensoless ones will bo salo until tlio
warriors, flushed with victory, come homo.
® But will the dofensoless ones bo safe? The
arms of tho children are arounu the necks
of tho bronzod warriors until thoy shako
themsolves free and start, and handker-
chiefs and flags aro waved and kisses
thrown until tho armed mon vanish boyond
tho hills. David and his meu soon got
through with their campaign and start
home ward. Every night on thoir way home,,
no soouor does tho soldior put his hoad ou
the knapsack than in his dream ho hears
tho welcomo of the wife and tho shout of the
children. • Oh, what long stories they will
have to toll their families, of how thoy
dodged tho battlo-axo! and then will roll up
their sloovo and show tho half-healed
wonnd. With glad, quick step, thoy march
on, David and his men, for they aro march-
ing homo. Now thoy como up to tho last
hill which overlooks Ziklag, and they expect
in a moment to st'e tho dwelling place of
their loved onos. Thoy look, and as thoy
look thoir cheeks turn pale, and their lip
, quivers, and their hand involuntarily comes
down on tho hilt of tho sword. "Where is
is™ Ziklag? Where aro our homes?" they cry.
Alas! tho curling smoke abovo tho ruin tolls
the tragedy. Tho Ainalekitos havo como
down and consumed the villago, and carried
the mothers and the wives and tho children
of David aud his mon into captivity. The
swarthy warriors stund for a few moments
transfixed with horror. Then their eyes
glance to each other, aud thoy burst intouu-
controllublo weeping; for when a strong
warrior weops, tho grief is appaling. It
seems as if the emotion might toar him to
pieces. Thoy "wept until they had no more
power to woop." But soon their sorrow
turns into rage, aud David swinging his
sword liigh in air, cries: "Pursue; for thou
shalt overt alto them, and without fail re-
cover all." Now tho march becomes a
"double-quick." Two hundred of David's
men stop by the brook Bosor, faint with
fatigue and grief. They pan not go a step
farther. They aro left there. But the
other four hundred men wilder David, with
a sort of panther step, march on in sorrow
and in rage. They And by tho side of the
road a hall'-dead Egyptian, and thoy re-
suscitato him, and compel him to teil tlio
whole story. He says: Yonder thoy wont,
tho captors and tho captives," pointing in
the direction. Forward, ye four hundred
bravo men of fire! Very soon David and his
enraged company came upon tlio Aninlc-
kitlsh host. Yonder they see their own
wives and children and mothers, and under
Amalekitish guard. Here aro tho officers of
the Amalekitish army holding a banquet.
The cups aro full, tho music is roused, the
danco begins. The Amalekitish host
cheer and cheer and cheer over their
victory. But, without, note of bugle
or warning of trumpet, David and his four
hundred nu n burst upon tho scene, sudden-
ly as Robert Bruce hurled his Scotchmen
upon tho revelers at Bannockburn. David
jlhis men look up. and one glance at their
M ones in captivity and uuder Amalek-
guard throws them into a very fury of
■munition; for you know how men will
when they light for their wives and
Iron. Ah, there are tj itnings in their
nd every finger is a Vpoar, and thoir
is liko tho shout of the whirlwind,
st tho upset tanlcurds and tho costly
Is crushed underfoot, the wounded
ikltcs llo (their blood mingling with
kwlno) shrieking for mercy. No sooner
,vid and his mon win thoir victory than
ihrow their swords down into the dust
>t do thuy want with swords now I—
"io broken families como together
a groat shout of joy that makes the
tg scene in Ziklag soem very Insipid in
;parison. The rough old warrior has
some persuasion beforo ho can get
Id to como to htm now after so long
mco; hut soon tho little linger traces
miliar wrinkle across tho scarred
And then the empty tankards are set
they are filled with tho best wine
o hills, and David and his men, the
ids, tho wives, the brothers, tho sis-
Irink to the overthrow of the Amolck-
.d to tho rebuilding of Ziklag. So, O
let thine enemies perish!
they aro coming home, David and his
d their families—a long procession,
women and children, loaded with
and robes and with all Kinds of
Ids that tho Amalekitcs had gathered
years of conquest—every thing now
hands of David anil his men. When
imo by tho brook Bosor, the place
staid tlio men sick and incompetent
ivol, tho jewels and tho robes
,11 kinds of treasures are divided
tho sick as well as among the well.
', tho lame and exhausted ought, to
une of the treasures. Here is a robe
is pale-faced warrior. Here is a pillow
is dying man. Here is a handful of
tor tho wasted trumpeter. I really
that those men who fainted by the
Bosor may havo endured as much as
mon who wont into bat t le. Some mean
■s objected to the sick ones having any
i spoils. Tho objectors said: "These
ltd not fight." David, with a magnani-
heart, replies: "As his partis that
down to the battle, so shall his part
"* tarrieth by the stuff."
subject, is practically suggestive to
hank God, in these times a man can
on a journey, and ho gone weeks and
r, and como hack urnl see his house
ihed of incendiary, and have his fam-
tho stop to greet him, if by telegram
n foretold the moment of his coming.
;hero are Amalekitish disasters, and
are Amalekitish diseases, that some-
come down ui>on one's home, making
•astating work as the day when Zik-
ok fire. There are families in my
igation whose homes have been broken
o battering-ram smote in the door, no
ilast, crumbled the statues, no flame
1 amidst the curtains; but so far as all
rand merriment that once belonged
; house aro concerned, tho homo has
:ed. Aimed diseases came down upon
ietness of tho sceno—scarlet fevers,
risies, or consumption, or undefined
r. lers came and seized upon somo mem-
of that family, and carried them away.
Tin ashes! Aud you go about, sotne-
tuHsn weeping and sometimes enraged, want
s20BBBkto S'et back your loved ones as
as David and his men waat-
ito reconstruct their despoiled house
Is. Ziklag iu ashes! Somo of you
l| off from home. You counted
[days of your absence. Every day seemed
g as a week. Oil, how glad you were
Mfeti the time cumo for you to go aboard the
■Womliimt or railroad car and start for
home! You arrived. You went up tho
street where your dwelling was, and in tho
night you put your hand on the door-hell,
8MB, behold! it was wrapped with tho signal
of ; bereavement: anil you found Hint
Am iekitish Death, which lias devasted a
thoiiMiud other households, had blasted
yt)urs. You go about weeping amidst the
desolation of your once hapny home, think-
ing of the bright eyes closed, and the noble
Iteavta stopped, and the gentle hands folded,
and yon weep until yon have no more power
to woep. Ziklag in antics!
A goutlemau wont to a friend of mino In.
the city of Washington, and asKcd that
through him ho might get a consulship tu
somo foreign port. My friend said to him:
"What do you want t> iro away from your
beuutiful home for, into foreign port)"
"Oh,' ho replied, "my homo is gone! My
six children are dead! I must get away,
sir. I can't stand it in this country any
longer." Ziklag in ashes!
Why theso long shadows of bereavomout,
across this audience! W hy is it that in almost
every, assemblage black is tho predominant
color of the apparel? Is it becuuso you do
not like saffron or brown or violet? Oh, no,
You say: "Tho world is not so bright to
us as it once was;" and there is a story of
silent voices, and of still feet, and of loved
olies gone, and when you look over the hills,
expecting only beauty and loveliness, you
find only dovustatiou und woo. Ziklag lu
ashos!
In Ulstor County, New York, tho villago
church was decorated until the fragrance of
tho fiowora was almost bowildering. The
maidens of tho villago had emptied tho
place of flowers upon one marriage
altar. One of their own number was affi-
anced to a minister of Christ, who had
come to take hor to his homo. With hands
joined, amidst a congratulatory audience,
tho vows wore tuken. Iu throe days from
that time ono of those who stood at tho altar
exchanged earth for heaven. Tho wedding
march broke down into the funorul dirge.
There wore not en <rh <>"w~ >'<vv for tho
coffin lid, because thoy had all been taken
for the bridal ho r. Alio u.... ... ...ster of
Christ Is brought to another villago. Ho
had gone out from them less thau a week bo-
fore In his strength; now ho comes home
lifeless. The whole church bewailed him.
The solomn procession moved around to look
upon tho still face that once had beamod
with messages of salvation. Littlo children
were lifted up to look at him. And some of
those whom he had comforted in days of
sorrow, when they passod that silent form,
mado tho place dreadful with thoir weeping.
Another village emptied of its flowers—some
of thoin put in tho shape of a cross to sym-
bolize his liopo, others put In the shape of a
crown to symbolize hiB triumph. A hundred
lights blown out In ono strong gust from tho
open door of a sepulchre. Ziklag in ashes!
I preach this sermon to-day, because I
want to rally you, as David rallied his men,
for tho recovery of the loved and tho lost.
I want not only to win heaven, but I want
all this congregation to go along with me.
I feel that somehow I havo a responsibility
in your arriving at that great city. I havo
on other Sabbaths used other inducements.
I mean, to-day, for the sake of varioty, hop-
ing to roach your heart, to try another kind
of inducomont. Do you really want to
join the companionship of your lovod ones
who havo gouo? Aro you as anxious to
join them as David and his men were
to join their famillos? Then I
am here, in tlio name of God, to say that
you may, and to toll you how.
I remark, in tho first place, If you wunt to
join your loved onos in glory, you must trav-
ol tho same way they went. No sooner had
the half-dead Egyptian been resuscitated
than ho pointed tho way the captors ami tho
captives had gone, aud David and his meu
followed after. So our Christian friends
havo gono into another country, and if we
want to reach their companionship we must
take tho saiuo road. They repented; wo
must repent. They prayed; wo must pray,
They trusted in Chri,st; wo must trust in
Christ.' They lived a religious life; wo
must live a religious life. They wore in
some things like ourselves. I know now
t hat they tire gono, there is a halo around
their names: but they had thoir faults.
Thoy said and did things thoy ought never
to have said or done. Thoy were sometimes
rebellious, sometimes cast down. They were
far from being perfect. So I suppose that
when wo havo gono, somo things in us that
aro now only tolerable may bo almost re-
splendent. But as thoy wero like us in de-
ficiencies, we ought to bo like thom in tak-
ing a supernal Christ to mako up for tlio
dellcit.s. Had it not been for Jesus, they
would have all perished: but Christ con-
fronted them, and said: "I am tho way,"
and they took it.
I havo also to say to you that the path
that these captives trod was a troubled path,
and that David and his men had to go over
tho same difficult way. While these captives
were being taken off, they said; "Oh, we
are so tired; wo aro so sick; wo are so hun-
gry!" But the men who had charge of
thom said: "Stop this crying. Go on!"
David and his men also found It, a
hard way. Thoy had to travel it. Our
friends havo gone into glory, and
It Is through much tribulution that we
aro to enter Into the kingdom. How our
loved ones used to struggle! how their old
hearts ached! how sometimes they had a
tussle for bread! In our childhood wo won-
dered why thoro wero so many wrinkles on
thoir faces. We did not, know that, what
wero called "crow's feet" on their faces
wero the marks ol' the black raven of trouble.
Did you nover hear tho old people, seated
by the evening stand, talk over their early
trials, thoir hardships, tho accidents, the
burials, tho disappointments, tho empty
flour-barrel when there were so many hun-
gry ones to feed, tho sickness almost unto
death, where tho next, dose of morphine de-
cided between ghastly bereavement and an
unbroken homo circle? Oh, yes! it was
trouble that whitened their hair. It was
trouble that shook tho cup in their hands. It
■was trouble that washed tho lustre from
their eyes with tho raiu of tears until they
neoded spectacles. It was trouble that mado
the cane a necessity for thoir journey. Do
younevor remember seeing your old mother
Bitting, on somo rainy day, looking out ol!
the window, her elbow ou tho window-sill,
hor hand to her brow—looking out, not see-
ing tho falling shower at all (you well knew
she was looking into tho distant past), until
tho apron came up to her eyes, because tho
memory was too much lor her?
"Oft the hl(r, nnhliUl mi loir.
Stealing down the furrowcvl cheek,
Told In eloqiioneu sincere,
Tales of woe they could not spcaki
Hut this scene of weeping o'er.
Past this scene of loll and piln.
They si,all feel distress no more.
Never, never woup again.1'
"Who aro those under tho altar!" tho ques-
tion was asked; and tho responso came:
"Theso are they jvhich came out of groat,
tribulation, anil havo washed their robes, aud
mado them white in the blood of the Lamb."
Our friends went by a path of tears
into glory. Bo not, surprised if wo havo to
travel tho same pathway.
I remark, again, if we want to win the so-
ciety of our friends iu heaven, wo shall not
only havo to travol a path of faith and a path
of tribulation, but we will also have to posi-
tively battle for their companionship. Da-
vid and his mon never wanted sharp swords
and invulnerablo shields aud thick breast-
plates so much as they wanted thom ou tho
day when they eume down upon the Amale-
kites. If they had lost that, battle, they
would havo got their famillos bacit. I sup-
pose that ono glance at thoir loved ones iu
captivity hurled them into tlio battle with
ten-fold courage and energy. Thoy said:
"We must win it. Every thing depends up-
on it. Let each one take a man on point of
spear or sword. We must win it.' And I
tell you that between us and coining into tho
companionship of our loved ones who are de-
parted there is an Austerlitz, there is a < iet-
tysburg, there is a Waterloo. War with tho
world, war with tlio flesh, war with the dev-
il. We havo either to conquer our troubles
or our troubles will conquer us. David will
either slay tho AinnlekitcB. or tho Amale-
kites will slay David. And yet is not. the
fort to be taken worth all the pain, all the
peril, all the the beseigemcnt: Look! who
are they on tho bright hills of heaven yonder!
There they aro, those who sat at, your own
tablo, tho chair now vacant. There thoy
aro, those whom you rocked in infancy in
tho cradle, or hushed to sloop in your arms.
There thoy are, those in whoso life your life
was hound up. There they are, t heir brow
more radiont than ever before ,\ou saw it.
thoir lips waiting for tlio kiss of
heavenly greeting, their cheek roslato
with the health of eternal summer,
their hands beckoning you up tho
steep, their feet bounding with the mirth
of heuven The pallor of their last sick-
ness gone out of their face, never more to
lie sick, never more to cough, never more
to limp, never more to be old. never more to
weep. They are watching from those
heights to see that, if through Christ you
can take that fort, and whether you will
rush upon thom—victors. They know that
upon this battle depends whether you will
ever joiu their society. Up! strike harder!
Charge more bravely! Remember that ev-
ery inch you gain puts you so much farther
pn toward that heavenly reunion.
If this morning while I speak you could
hoar the cannonade of a foreign navy, com-
ing through the "Narrows," which was to
despoil our city, and if they really should
suecocd In carrying our families away from
us, how long would we tako beforo wo re-
solved to go after them? Everv weapon,
whether fresh from Springfield or old and
rusty in tho garret, would be brought out;
and we would urge oil, and, coining in front
of i ho foe, we would look at them, aud then
look at our families, aud tho cry would bo:
"Victory or death!" and when the ammuni-
tion was gone, we would tako the captors ou
the point of bayonet or uuder tho breech
of the guu. If you would mako such a
strugo-lo for tho getting buck of your earthly
friends, will you not make as much strug-
gle for tho gaiuing of the eternal companion-
ship of your heavenly friends? Oh! yes!
wo must join them. Wo must sit in thoir
holy society. Wo must sing with them tho
song. Wo must celebrate with them tho
triumph. Lot it never bo told on earth or iu
heaven that David and liis men pushed out,
with braver hearts for tho getting back of
their earthly friends for a few years on
earth than wo to get our departed 1
You say that all this Implies
that our departed Christian friends
aro alivo. Why, had you any idea
they were dead? They havo only mov-
ed. I f you should go on tho 2d of May to a
liouso whore ono of your friends lived, and
found htm gone, you would not think that
ho was dead. You would inqulro next door
whoro ho bad moved to. Our departed
Christian friends havo only taken another
house. Tho secret is that they aro richer
now than thoy oneo were, and can afford a
better residenco. They oneo drank out of
curthernwuro; thoy now drink from tho
King's chalice. "Joseph is yet alivo," and
Jacob will go up and see him. Living? aro
they ? Why, if a man can live in this aanip,
dark dungeon of earthly captivity, can no
not live whoro he breathes tho bracing at-
mosphere of tho mountains of heaven? Oh,
yes, they are living!
Do you think Paul is so near dead now as
ho was when ho was living in the Romau
dungeon? Do you think that Fredorick
Robertson, of Brighton, is as near dead now
as ho wus when, year after year, ho slept
seated on the floor, Ills head on tho bottom
of a chair, because ho could find easo In no
other position? Do you think that Itobort
mill is as near doaa now an ho was when,
on his couch, ho tossed In physical tortures?
No. Death gavo them the few black drops
that cured them. That is all that death does to
a Christian—cures him. I know thut what
I have said Implies that they are living.
There is no question about that. Tho only
question this morning is whether you will
over join them.
But I must not forget those two hundred
men who fainted by tho brook Besor. They
could not tako another step -fart,hor. Thoir
feet wore soro; their head ached; their en-
tiro nature was exhausted. Besides that,,
they were, broken-hearted because their
homes wero gone. Ziklag iu ashes! And yet
David, when ho comes up to tliem. divides
tlio spoils among tliein. He says they shall
havo some of tho jewels, somo of the robes,
somo of the treasures. 1 look over this audi-
ence this morning, und 1 find at least two
hundred who havo faiutod by tho brook
Besor—tho brook of tears. You fool as if
you could not take, another step farther, as
though you could never look tip again. But,
I am going to imitate David, and divide
among you somo glorious trophies. Here is
a robe: "All things work together for good,
to those who love God." Wrap yourself in
that glorious promise. Hero is for your
nock a string of pearls, made out of crystal-
lized tears: "Weeping may endure for a
night, but joy comet,h in the morning."
Here is a coronet: "Bo thou faithful unto
death, and 1 will give thee u crown of life."
O ye fainting ones by the brook Besor, dip
your blistered foot in tho running stream of
God's mercy. Bathe your brow at tho wells
of salvation. Soothe your wounds with tho
balsam that exudes from trees of life. God
will not utterly cast you off, O broken-
hearted man, O broken-hearted woman,
fainting by the brook Besor.
A shepherd fl#ds that his musical pipo Is
bruised. He says: "I eaa't get anymore
music out of this instrument; so 1 will just
break it, and I will throw this reed away.
Then I will gel another reed, and I will play
inusle on that." But, God says ho will not
cast you off because all the music has gone
out, of your soul. "The bruised reed ho will
not break." As far as I can tell the diag-
nosis of your disease, you want Divino
nursing, and it Is promised you: "As ono
whom his mother comfortoth, so will I com-
fort you." God will see you all the way
through, O troubled soul, und when you
como down to the Jordan of death, you will
find it to bo as thin a brook as Besor; for
Dr. Robinson says that in April, Bosordries
up, and there is no brook at all. And In
your last moment you will be as placid as
tho Kentucky minister who went, up to God.
saying, in tho dying hour: "Write to my
sister 'Kate, and tell her not to be worried
and frightened about tho story of tho hor-
rors around the death-bed. Tell her thero
is not, a word of truth in it,, for I am (here
now, and Josus is with mo, and 1. find It a
very happy way; not because 1 am a good
man; for 1 am not; I ain nothing but a poor,
miserable sinner; but, I havo an Almighty
Saviour, and both of his arms are around
me."
May God Almighty through the blood of
tjie everlasting covenant, bring us into tho
companionship of our lovod ones whohavo al-
ready entered the heavenly land, and en-
tered the presence of Christ, who. not, hav-
ing seen, we love, anil so David shall recover
all, "and us his pari, is that goeth down to
battle, so shall his part be that tarrieth by
the stuff."
Dark in Spots.
Littlo Mary, otherwise Big Eyes,
throe years old, hurt never boon :i trav-
eler, hor longest trips being to Aunt
Susan's, five miles distant. When her
father's business necessitated his mov-
ing from Georgia to Alabama, tlio older
children talked to Mary a great deal
during the packing about tho "new
country'' they were going to, until the
littlo mind wus prepared to accept any
conditions, however novel, in that
strange land. Finally the day of mov-
ing came. and the Georgia Pacific Rail-
road boro thom across the state line.
"Now, Mary," said papa, "wo aro in
Alabama." Hig Eyes said nothing1, but
looked out eagerly for something
strange and now. However, she could
not see that Alabama was different at
all from Georgia. Disappointed, she
still reserved the expression other opin-
ion, and gazed more earnestly out, when
suddenly the train shot into a tunnel.
Tho little tot caught at her father's
hand as he hold it to her, but sho did
not cry out. When daylight shone
brightly on them a train, Big Eyes shook
her heart disgunteoly. "Don't, ylke ilis
tuntry; it dots night in spots!"' Har-
per's Young People.
Mourning CaiTietl Even to tho Cook.
"You want a servant girl?"
"Yes, a colored one."
"Aro you particular about having a
eolored one1"'
"Yen, vro'vo h:ul a death iu the fami-
ly, and we're iu mourning." — Boston
Courier.
Quick Way to Acquire Shorthand.
"How long does it tako to acquire
shorthand?"
"A year or so by tho usual system."
"Is thero no quicker way?"
''Well, you might fool with tho cir-
cular saw.''—Boston Beacon.
WALKING THE ROPE.
dlondin Writes About Himself and
His Risky Profession.
From Blondin's paper in Lippincott's
Magazine it can bo learned that a ropo
walker is liko a poet, born anil not
mado. 1 myself, he says, began to
toddle along a ropo when 1 was only
four years old, and In my eighth year I
gavo a special exhibition on tho high
ropo before tho King at, Turin. It is a
usual tiling, no doubt, for tho appren-
tices in a circus to bo taught ropo walk-
ing among their other lessons, but only
a few of them ovor get beyond tho
rudiments of tho art: Tho usual sys-
tem of teaching is to mako tho pupil
i walk along a narrow board the width
of which is daily decreased until it is
barely thicker than an ordinary ropo.
Posturing the. assumption of graceful
attitudes aro taught in this manner and
finally tho pupil is introduced to tho
ropo itself..
The apparatus which a leading ropo
walker uses appears in tho public eyes
to bo simple enough, but in reality
it has to bo constructed and arranged
with tho greatest of care. Tho ropo I
generally use is formed with a lloxiblo
core of steel wire, eoverod with tlio
best Manilla hemp,and is about an inch
and three-quarters in diamotor. It is
several hundred yards in length, and
the cost may bo $500. Tho ropo is
coiled from either end ou two large
windlasses, and when supported by two
high poles the windlasses aro turned
until the ropo is stretched perfectly
taut. It takes me, as a rule, several
days to adjust this simple apparatus to
perfection—a fact which caused me to
abandon my performances at Stat,en
Island, where it was necessary to re-
move the ropo after each exhibition.
At the top of each polo is a small plat-
form, for the purpose of resting; and
oa ono of these platforms I usually
place a temporary dressing-room, where
I can make necessary changes in my
attire. 1 may mention here that tho
suit of armor in which I lirst,appear is
of great weight arid exquisite work-
manship, the gauntlets having once be-
longed to the celebrated tenor, Mario.
As a, rule, my other costumes are of the
least, possible weight, while tlio shoos
are an ordinary pair of lino leather
ones, with soft soles. It is, 1 think, a
popular error to suppose that a ropo
walker's feet are, exceptionally large or
muscular. Mine. I am told, are, rather
below Hum above the ordinary size.
The balancing-pole, I suppose, fairly
comes withiii I he classification of
apparatus. In my own ease it, is made
of ash, is abouI twenty-six feet long,
and weighs some forty or fifty pounds.'
It is made in lliree pieces, so as to be
easily taken apart, and to occupy but
little, space when 1 am traveling. Nat-
urally, my journeys into every quarter
of the civilized world have taught me
to reduce my baggage lo the smallest
possible dimensions; but, as it is, I am
forced to carry a great deal, aud when
1 visited Australia years ago I remem-
ber I carried over sixty tons of baggage
with me.
I am often asked as to my sensations
when walking the rope; but if by that
is meant whether I-fuel fear or nervous-
ness, I must answer decidedly in the
negative. When walking I look some
eighteen or twenty feet ahead of mo,
anil whistle softly or hum a, snatch of a
song, as the humor may sicze me. I
also invariably keep time in my step lo.
the music the band is playing, and I
find that helps me wonderfully in pre-
serving my balance. With my own
weight and that, of the balancing pole,
there must be about, '.2:10 pounds bear-
ing on the rope. which naturally gives
considerably, this sagging being one of
tho chief difficulties we havo to en-
counter in keeping our balance. I pre-
fer to perform iu the open air; for in a
bailor a theater, even of the. largest
dimensions, the vitiated, air found at
tho elevation at which my rope is al-
ways stretched is most unpleasant to
breathe.
Nowadays I never practice, and oven
my most dillicult tricks,such as turning
a, somersault over a chair placed in the
middle of the rope aud landing with my
feet oil the other side of it, are usually
performed without premeditation, just
as the whim seizes me. This enables
me without effort to vary program met? at
every performance, and prevents I hem
from becoming monotonous to mc. J
could remain a year, or even longer,
without ever setting foot ou a rope and
then go ou and tread it as safely as
though I had been in constant practice
As an illustration of 1 lie slight amount
of practice I require for a, new trick, 1
may mention my bicycle act. Some
years ago, when bicycles were some-
what of a novelty. it struck me that I
could utilize one it my performance,and
I according lo my directions, with a
groove in the wheels tolil the ropo. but
otherwise of ordinary fashion. I order-
ed it to bo sent to nie some time before the
performance, so that 1 could try it, but
it came just as I was making to appear.
I was as pleased as a, child with a, new
toy,and, mounting it at once, I rehears-
ed successfully in view of a, largo
audience, who probably thought I had
been practicing for months.
I never take any stimulant before
walking tho rope, and take no special
pains to keep myself iu good condition.
My attondenl rubs mo down carefully
when my journey is ended, and then 1
take some light refreshment. Other-
wisclonly live plainly and regularly,
merely avoiding eating a heavy meal
shortly before, a performance. Finally,
I may say that I prefer exhibiting with-
out a net stretched below mo. I think
it would mako me so nervous as almost
to lead to the accident against which it
is intended as a safe guard.
if I myself do not feel nervous, f am
afraid the many persons I have carried
on my back across tho rope have felt a
trifle pcrtubod, savo when they have
professional assistants. In reality
there is nothing in the world for them
lobe afraid of. All they have to do Is
sit perfectly still, retain from clutching
■ me too tightly around the nock«.*ipd
leave the rest to inc. When I ain
carrying any one over for the first time.
I chat to him continuously on any dif-
ferent subjects 1 can think about, and
try in this manner to relieve his
anxiety, and I always caution hiin
against looking downward when In mid
air. Somehow, though, he never seems
quito happy.and I always detect a gasp
of relief when tho cud of tho ropo and
the platform aro reached. More than
once the victim has devoutly exclaim-
ed: "Never again!"
FORTY YEARS AN ACTOR.
Comedian Florence Tells of His
Newspaper Career Before Going
on the Stage.
"How long have you been on tho stage,
Mr. Florence?".
"Well, sir, tho 10th of next month
will mako it forty years. I am lifty-
sevon years old, and began when I was
quito young. Beforo going on tho
stage I did some work as a roporter on
the Now York Sun, and I guess I wrote
tho lirst newspaper interview over
written. I will toll you tho story, pro-
vided you don't print it. I was barely
sixteen years old, and my duty consist-
ed in going to tho hotels and copying
tho arrivals. There wero then but
four principal hotels, and my task was
not a very dillicult ono. I was also ex-
pected to watch the Tombs Court and
makoa note of any important fact with-
out any cominent, whatsoever. Wel l,
Mr. IVllow, I he city editor, had hoard
that ex Gov. Marshall was at the How-
ard House and directed, mo to go and
tijid out something about his move-
ments. I undertook it. After loung-
ing around the ollico for awhile I
marched boldly upstairs. A big nigger,
who, strange to say, did not know mo,
caught me by tho seat of tho pantaloons
and the nape of the neck and slung mo
downstairs, after having bumped me
around against the wall for several
minutes. However, 1 had picked up a
few pointers from tho clerk,
and went lo my mother's
residence and wrote my interview.
Having finished it, 1 strode back to th«
Sun ollico -the building now occupied
by the Commercial Advertiser—stepped
boldly up to Mr. Fellow's desk and laid
down my manuscript. It would havo
mado about two slicks, and, oh! I was
so proud oT it. I could hear my heart
throb with anxiety. Mr. Fellow read
it and scowled. He walked across the
room aud showed it to Mr. Beach, the
managing editor, who also read it and
scowled. My soul sank within mo. I
saw them take my precious -lirst effort,'
tear it up and drop the pieces into tho
waste basket. My hopes wero thor-
oughly blighlod. 1 had proudly done
the writing iu my mother's presence,
and she shared in my ambition to sec
the 'article' in print, as up to that time
I had only been allowed to take notes.
When I saw the fruit of my labor and
anxiety, to say nothing of the big nig-
ger at, tho hotel, 111us wantonly de-
stroyed. I was literally crushed, and my
lirst thought wus, What, will mother
think':' The editor turned to mc. and
said, Mr. Klorcnce.' (the hoys all called
me Billy). 'Air. Florence is this the
best you can do? Godown to the Tombs
and copy | he docket.' I was no longer
satisfied to be a ,journalist; it was evi-
dently not my size.
"Forty years on the stage is a. long
time. I might have been rich and able
to retire, hut I am not. Alany of
my friends say to me, Florence, why
don't you quit this? Why don't you
retire?' They don't, seem to think that
1 'don't have, lo,'as the hoys say. I
guess they think I'm doing this for fun,
and hauling my wife about the country
iu dusty, stilling cars, going into cold
theatres and t bird-rate hotels, traveling
all nigly without sleep, &o. Great fun!
I tell you I have to do it, though I
think there an many years of good
work in me yet. I am iu line health
and really don't mind the hard work.
I wish to present a, few more characters
that, I have in mind before the curtain
goes down."
Speaking of • Heart of Hearts," Mr.
Florence said: "II is a delightful littlo
story and never fails to chain the at-
tention of an audience. Many claim
that it does not put Airs. Florence and
myself forward as it should. That may
be true to some extent, but it brings
out the calibre of the entire company
In splendid fashion arid never fails to
please."—Ex.
Torn to I'iocuij hy a Tiger.
The shocking death of a female turn*
or of wild beasts is reported from
lloheiimuth, in Bohemia. She wus a
girl twenty-six years old, named Bertha
Baiiin^artner. During a, public per
fonuau' e in a strolling menagerie sho
entered an empty cage, and the door of
an adjoining cage was then opened to
let a, lion aud a,Bengal li^er enter. The
lion walked iu quietly, but tho tiger, a
ferocious beast, which, had three times
wounded, its keepers, crouched in tho
doorway and showed temper. The girl
lost, nerve, cried for help, and slipped.
As she did so the tigel' made a spring,
lilt her on the shoulder, then in the
throat, literally rent her to pieces, and
tossed her body about. Half the
audiuce ran to tho doors in horror,
while the attendants tried to beat off
tho tiger by poking hot irons Into the
cage. But the girl was dead long be-
fore the animal was driven away. The
lion seems to havo been as much
frightened as the human spectators, for
he took no part in the carnage.—Vienna
Despatch to London Times.
Tho Frlzc Cattle of England.
The champion beast in England is a
splendid Devon steer, whose slro rejoc-
cs in the popular name of Gladstone,
and.which belongs to a Norwich man,
but which wji i'Tjred at Tavistock. Just
under three years of age, this animal
tips the beam at 1.50 hundredweight
and a quarter. How does that look, says
the patriotic visitor, for the roast beef
of old England? At the Birmingham
show last, week the judges proclaimed
this steer the best, of its breed they had
seen, and the Islington wiso men have
crowded the edifice of Gladstone pore's
fame by the supremo award of all, to
say nothing of being first in his class,
best of his breed, and the best male iu
tho show. When I looked at him ye#
terdfiy he did not, seem much affected
by all this honor; but I am afraid ho
will be rather out up before long. His
closest rival was a black Scotch heifer
I from Bos.j-shire, pronounced a littlo
I beauty, and awarded a £.50 cup as the
host lady in the show. Loudon Letter
to Philadelphia Telegraph.
1
A SAD BAKER BOY.
Ha Pays Dearly for a Thorough
Lesson In Etlquatta.
At least ono German bailor's boy la
this citv knows more about elevated
railway etiquette to-day than ho did
yestorduy, says tho Now York Ilorald.
Johannes—ho confided to mo with
many blubberings that his name was
Johannes, when his brief but exceed-
ingly fruitful experience was over— ■
Johannes took -the train at the city hall
station at six o'clock, when thero is the
usual rush for home. Thero was con-
siderable of him, unil it was most
thoroughly covered with tho whitest
kind ol white Hour. Never, certainly,
was, there a more thoroughly bellourcd
i ndividual. There was not a spot about
liim us large as a ten-cent piece that
was not covered with the emblem of
his trade, and it looked almost as if tho
journeymen In Johannes' shop hud
buried him head foremost in a Hour bar-
rel before sending him out. And it
was the most annoying kind of flour,
loo. It seemed* to lly all over you if
you only looked cross-oyed at it.
It may bo very readily imagined,
therefore, that Johannos was not wol-
coined with any degree of euthuslasm
in tho crowded car in whioh he found
lodgement. In fact, ho was tho recipient
of many dark and threatening glanceH
from tho ladies and gentlemen betwoeu
whom ho forced his way, not to mention
pet shoves und pleasant jabs whioh
greeted him in his course, and hod he
boon any thing but a German's baker's
boy ho might have taken warning from
those ominous signs of displeasure.
But he wasn't, and he only wiggled
tho harder as tho jabs increased in
forco and number. Ho was obllviona-
to evory thing except the necessity to
kcop moving. The spirit of perpetual
motion, which Mr. Keoly, of Philadel-
phia, has boon coquetting with for some
time, seemed' to havo possession of
that Gorman baker's boy's anatomy.
Every part of him wiggled liko a dis-
jointed snake, and ho kept shifting from
ono ond of tho car to the other like an
imp, leaving a streak of white flour in
his trail on tho coats and dresses of the
passengers. If uny one in the vehlolo
escaped a touch of his whiteness it
certainly wasn't Johannes1 fault. The
dark threatening glances gradually
grow to scowls, tho jabs and pushes
gavo way to eutTs and kicks, tho men
mutotrod curses and women guve vent
to vicious iltttlo exclamations in which
"littlo imp" and "little dovil" predom-
inated, according to the speaker's dc-
groo of culture. Anil Johannes only
wiggled tlie harder.
1 felt that matters wore approaching
:v climax and expected to seo murder
committed at tiny moment.
"Houston street," yelled tho guard.
Tho train stopped with a, jolt. Every-
body who was standing, including
Johannes, made a wild grab for sup-
port, and everybody, excepting Johan-
nes, connected. Fate was against the
baker's hoy. lie had evidently tempt-
ed it too strongly. At any rate, his
grab yiolded only space. Ilisoyesroll-
ed wildly, aud iu a halo of white dust
he sailed most, ungracefully plump into
the la]) of a fat old lady mngnlllcently
attired iu a black satin dress.
Thero was a shriek, a groan, and
Johannes was thing .violently upward,
and forward. Then another shriek,
this time of rage, us tho fat old lady
looked at her magnificent black dress
covered with the most beuutiful lot of
flour you havo ever seen.
She only looked a moment, howover.
Then with tho moat alarming dispatch,
she broke after Joannes, who wus wig-
gling with redoubled energy for safety
toward the other end of tho car. Those
•f the passengers whom ho did not cov-
er sufficiently with his flour tho old
liuly finished up from her dross, and
pandemonium reigned.
In about sixteen seconds the old lady
caught, up with tho baker's boy, and
then through the while dust you could
sco a wild whirling of arms,„un inex-
tricable struggle ol feet, a revolving of
two snowy bodies und that was all, ex-
cept that you heard tho most distress-
ing shrieks of pain, intermingled with
the most awful and breathless tongue-
lashing mortal ovor listened to. It
only lasted about a, minute, and you
could seo hy the gracefully settling flour
dust that comparative calm reigned.
As the atmosphere cleared more and
moro it disclosed tiro old lady with a
firm grip on tho baker hoy's blonde
curls, an excited guard wildly brushing
at what had been a blue coat, and about
two dozen of the maddest kind of spcci,
tutors of both sexes, covered from lieud
to foot, with flour,
"Ninth street!" called tho guard lu
the other end of the car.
"Fut him out!" "Kill him!" "Throw
him down into the street!" "Put hint
under the engine!" came from the end
where all the excitement was. Then
there was a, shout, a shove, inoro flour
dust, and a fearful yell, followed by what
some people might have called "a dull
thud." 1 forced my way out just as
tho train moved on. anil found tho ba-
ker's hoy howling like a madman, cow-
ering on the platform. They had thrown
hi in bodily over the gate (the enraged
passengers) aud he hurt ulmost landed
in tins street. In the host German that
1 could command I started to upbraid
Win for his suicidal course; but he only
stopped blubbering long enough to as-
sure me that he didn't know lie had
been hurting anybody's feelings. I left
him as a hopeless case und udvlsed him
to go down-stairs and wait for an empty
street-car.
"O, danke, danke, mcln liorr, aber
Icli werde inlr uiemals inehr in eincr
car traucn," he blubbered after me.
But he pocketed my nickel just the
same, as he started down tho steps.
Romantic Death of a Mouse.
A few evenings sluco as a young lady
of Bridgeport was dressing for a party,
a mouse put in an appearunco and,
naturally enough, created considera-
blo confusion, but finally disappeared.
After tho lady had returned from tho
party, and while disrobing for the
night, what was her astonishment to
find the poor mouse in hor bustle, but
the place of fancied security*- it had
sought in tho excitement of tho chase
hart proved a death trap. At some
time during its presence there it had
been crushed to death. Tlio young
lady's feelings can better be imagined
than described. - Hartford Times,
■ ;W
Mi
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•if. JU
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The Mineola Monitor (Mineola, Tex.), Vol. 12, No. 17, Ed. 1 Saturday, January 26, 1889, newspaper, January 26, 1889; Mineola, Texas. (https://texashistory.unt.edu/ark:/67531/metapth254268/m1/3/: accessed July 18, 2024), University of North Texas Libraries, The Portal to Texas History, https://texashistory.unt.edu.; crediting Mineola Memorial Library.