Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1874-01-24
GADABOUTS COLUMN
written for TIE Frepino S,ar.l

WHICH ItT INC EctNiftg CtdT.
Colonel Dom Pistt, albeit a rather aggravat-
ing man with the pen, whose puncturing power
he seems to be unaware Of, is a personal victim
of the lame the halt, the Off ce- seeking and the
odd.
A few weeks ago two clergymen called to see
him. one resident and the other visiting; for the
clergy read the secular papers with all the in
teresJ of the girls in ToulmOuches picture, who
lock the library door and climb the shelves far
thest from theology.
THE FIEND OF THE sANCTUN.
singular scene presented itself in the Colo
nel's sanctuh,. very raw -boned, gigantic
woman, with black eyes, yellow skin stained
on the cheeks with some red war paint, and
coal black hair, was seated before the Colonel
with basket of cold victuals at her feet. She
paused a moment as the twain entered, and the
Colonel, in the politest mental agony, drew
breath to salute his guests.
d" Brother Pratt" said the resident Divine,
"this is the Rev. Doctor Nesturcheon, of Perth ,
Scotland, author of the Infdelity of Medicine"
doctor, I've heard of you" said the Colonel;
Its been on my mind to call on you. Are you
well, sI?"
"No, mon," says the Doctor; 81 preached for
Henry Slicer in the town called Baltimore, and
my throat is like a dasordered bagpipe"
Gentlemen" broke in the weird woman,
"that man Cunnell let, l love! 1 told him
how shameful the guvment had treated me and
my po' husband, and he said might gather up
the newspapers In his Office every week. But
raising her voice) it amt for the newspapers
only that | come to see Cunnell Pie-et. Bless
his gentlemanly soul, it's to see him!'
Ma conscience 20 said the Scotchman.
" Gentlemen, it's for the great truth of sper-
retualism that my husband has been abused
Maybe you're not sperret-men? Never mind
Maybe you've got arv pair of old breeches at
home worn out in the seat or bust in the back?
My husbands got on Cunnell Pie-et's now, and
they're leetle too broad for him; but you can
see that the Cunnells big man. He ought to
be "a loud yell), for he's got genuous, he's got
heart, he's got moral grandder."
The ScotchmaD looked at the resident clergy
man upbraidingly. Dactor," he said, this
is an uncoo extraordinary hut O. the dell thOu's
brought a mon of God to-"
'Stand up, Cunnell Pe-et; said the dame -
rising full six feet in her stockings. l want to
show you the Twin truth of the sperret- world
For hOldin' fast to these livn' truths my po
husband is locked by that thar treasury of his
country. But well die in our tracks. Stand
up, Cunnell Pie-et!"
The blue-eyed Colonel, with politeness supe-
riOr to fear, rose up and trembled. The weird
woman brushed back his luxuriant brown
hair-nOt a thread turned grey-and with such
friction of her big palms As made the blood fly
TO the scalp, proceeded to scrape him, at the
same time bringing down her open hands with
powerful muscular force, so that it almost
ends.
"I'm mejum," she said. "Glowerv, This
dear Cunnel Pie-et will put under the Twin
enfluence, if he dies under it. Don't you feel
nothin' Cunnell Pie-et? Look into my eyes
llRuI sITdlBDI, bunnSll Ile-et"
By this time the COlonels hair was in wild
confusion and his eyes were popping from his
head. The gaunt woman was performing the
double-iointed act with such energy that you
couldn't tell whether it was her fingers that
snapped or her blazing black eyes. In the
height of the performance the ScotchwOman
made diversion by saying, solemnly:
almighty God she's fever proof!
The pest walked DER her very roof.
She tauld me sac, and then her loot
Held out for her annulty!''
40 aGln ArGly
and struck his bell:
"My good woman, )" he said, % if you want my
brooches III take 'em off right here. I'll add
my boots -
GARD, man, I'll throw in my spectacles, ;" said
Doctor Nesturcheon.
But the interview was closed by the timely
arrival of the foreman, before whom the woman
wilted as he said
Colonel, some of these lunatics will kill you
before can get to you some day?"
POTOMAC RIVER.
Brave river in the mountains bred
And broadening on thy way,
So stately that thy stretches seem
The bosom of me bay.
Thy course is like the nations life,
Through which the current flows;
Already past the cataracts,
And widening to repose.
Thy springs are at the Fairfax stone,
Thy great arms northward course,
They join and break the mountain bars,
With ever rallying force;
But in thy nature is such peace,
The beaten mountains yield,
And lie their rlven battlements
Within thy silver shield.
Through battle fields thy runlets wind,
In fame thy ferries shine;
Thy Tipples lave the ancient stones,
On Freedoms boundary line;
Where every slave the border crossed,
A living host repass'd,
And OF the sentres of thy fords,
John Brown shall be the last.
Yet, o, Potomac! of thy peace,
Somewhat let faction feel,
And Northern Pilgrims patient hear
OF Mosby and MacNeill.
The long trees bloom where Stuart crossed,
And weep where Ashby bled,
And every echo in thy hills,
Seems Stonewall Jacks0n's tread.
Too much we loved in other days
For hasty flood to bar,
And twice was kept at Vernon's grave
However rolled the war.
Like thee, Oh river, human states
By many rapid rage,
Before they reach the deeper tides
And glass the perfect age.
Brief is the span since Calvert's huts
Were still the Indians sport,
And BraddOck's columns stumbled on
The bOrderer Cresap's fort,
Till now the tinted hills grow fond
Around yon marble height,
Where freedom calmy rules realm
That tires her eagles flight.
And still the wild deer sip thy springs,
The wild duck haunt thy coves,
And all the year the fisher fleets
Bask DER thine oyster groves;
The strange new bass thy trout pursue,
And where the herring spawn,
The blue sky opens to let through
Thy own majestic swan.
Haste, Nature Rae yon shftless halls,
Where pride penurious bides,
The while the richness of the hills
Runs off to choke the tides.
Where every negro cabin stood
freeman's hearthside warm,
And broad estates of bramble wood
Expunge in many farm.
Fill and revive these fair arcades,
. race to Freedom born!
The tinklipg herds that roam the gla les,
The barge's mellow horn,
The lonesome sails that come and 60
Repeat the wish again:
The ardent river yearns to know
Not memories but MEN!
THE PHILADELPHIA CRNTHNN IAL.
A good instance of the power Of Q democratic
nation to call forth from quiet walks modest