Frostburg mining journal. [volume] (Frostburg, Md.) 1871-1913, 1874-01-10
The Age of AdultcratiOn.

This nineteenth century of ours will
hereafter be surely known as the "age
of adulteration. Gold, brass, iron,
having each reigned over the world,
now seems to have arrived the cycle of
shoddy From birth to death our fate
is to be the helpless victims of veneer,
the doomed martyrs to the Juggernaut
of adulteration. On entering this world
of simulacra, we are speedily weaned
upon diet of typhoid-watered milk,
while our infantinc disorders are at
tackled with spurious drugs, infinitely
diluted. Advancing in age, our tender
chests are protected with flannel, half
cotton, our little limbs clad in shoddy
cloth, our chilly feet encased in brown
paper-soled boots, and our cherry-ripe
noses operated on with silk handker-
chiefs, heavy with stiffening. Having
survived these crucial tests of constitu-
ton, we place an eight carat gold we'd
ding ring on dainty finger, and amidst
sham tears, and equally sham rejoicings,
we travel off by that greatest of all
make believes, an express train, in
search of an imaginary happiness.
Settling down to housekeeping, we re-
fresh ourselves each morning with
decoction of Maloo mixture and steel
filings, sweetened with sand, and we
assuage appetite with alumed bread,
larded butter, fresh eggs from KAN
tschatka, and OK tongues not unac-
quainted with omnibus life, while on
our return home in the evening, we par
take of Dartmoor mutton from North
amptonshire, sanctify it with bottle of
petroleum champagne and some Ham,
burg sherry, and top off with Swiss
cheese from Ayrshire and glass of port
from any hedge. Then, determined Oh
enjoyment, we kick off our brown paper
boots, light delicious Houndsditch
Havana, loll back in an armchair COW
cred with imitation morocco, and stuffed
with ash-pit pickings, warm. our shoddy-
covered legs at brisk slate fire, mix
tnmbler of methylated spirits called
whisky, and conscientiously subscribe
guinea to local charity, because our
neighbor has only given pound. Next
day we are i'll ; the doctor, shamming in
terest in our case, writes prescription
in sham Latin the chemist dispenses
it in diluted drugs the family lawyer,
pretending pity, verbosely writes our
will in sham English phraseology to in
crease his charges and just when our
sham gold repeater, warranted to last
or fifty years, stops, we stoptoo, and end
with these shams of life. Then amidst
the gloomy faces of expectant heirs, our
shoddy-velvet-co coffin, studded
with lacquered nails, is borne away by
dyed horses proudly bearing sham
ostrich plumes, false names and ficti
tious tails, while hired mourners lengthen
out their funeral faces at so much per
inch, and cheat at that. Last of all we
are duly covered in with patent stone,
warranted not to dissolve, and our
epitaph pretends that our friends are
inconsolable for their loss. Altogether,
from cradle to grave, we have been sur
rounded by decisions, tictions and por-
tentous authorizations, until the real,
true and sterling have at last seemed
to become mere shams, wretched veneers
to cover worthless trash. In which,
perhaps, our clerical friends may find the
reason for that "want of faith, of which
they accuse the existing generation
Lana and Water.