Grant County herald. [volume] (Lancaster, Wis.) 1850-1968, 1876-01-06
NEW YEARS GREETING.
Prom the Herald Carriers Address.

| OF tidings glad and tidings new
A year to daytime flies so fast
A fruitful, crazy year is gone;
It's deeds in black and white are cast,
And white nor black ne'er be undone--
Forever done, forever last.
That last years leaf in book of Time,
Transcript in good or deeds of crime,
Is turned, and sealed by hand of God.
Man lives, he grows, he changes, dies,
And mingles with the changing sod;
And thus, the universal prize,
Is fate of things we see and know:
OF naught they came, to naught they go;
There's naught but dies that Nature gives
And yet what lives forever lives.
Lo, on my HERALD's wealthy page,
Are stored the records of an age,
IT'S three times ten and three the years
Since first the light shone DER its face,
And called for welcome, smiles and cheers,
From hardy sires of Badger race.
The welcome crayed was welcome found,
And ever on its weekly round,
To early recollection bound,
Bright eyes now trace its full grown column
To find what's said of friend or foe;
And men grown old, with thought now solemn
Search it for names known long ago
Yearning for friends of early days,
Smiling at tricks that Fortune plays,
Watching the ways of friends of yore,
I Mourning for friends that 60 before.
For here are tales of olden times,
Written in prose-anon in -hyn'cs-
OF those who came from old abodes;
Left father, motner-sometimes wife
On hunt of wealth in sudden lodes,
By digging, toilng risking life
From Jaws of beast or foeman's strife:
OF first who dug, the first who farmed,
And into wealth turned Natures waste;
Loved heroes, whom no dread alarmed,
And who with joys their sorrows chased ;
Of every famous pioneer
There's something said; from Grant so queer
Who wore kettle for his hat,
And him for whom was named the Platte,
Down to the Gusty .Advocat
All, tell us not in festive numbers,
OF prairies plowed by sunny beams;
OF mines Of wealth dug up in slumbers,
Or castles built in pleasant dreams
Twas horny hands the forests sundered,
And raised instead these homes unnumbered
Changed haunts that echoed savage walls
To village dotted hills and wales.
Fain would write their names in verse,
Our Rountree's, Ramsey's praise rehearse-
Kirkpatrick's yarns that please;
OF Holman, Hannum, Richards, Hodges
And more who pride they dwelt in lodges
Like foxes holes, half dug in hills,
Whose voices still ring out in power;
And others gone beyond our ills,
Powerless here for evermore.
But here / leave that hero band,
And turn to men and things less grand
To village haunts and enterprises,
And kindred thought that thus arises.
In line of general merchandise
Our cheerful Lewis is the oldest,
The Burrs are wide awake and wise,
And Hyde, he dashes out the boldest;
Find Howe and Baxter, on your walk,
Look in and see their double stock,
You'll find the Aathans farther down,
And much they've helped improve the town
With them are Schreiner, pard of Joe,
And Oswald, Woolstenholme, the GO"
Of father of that stirring man,
Who wanting wider field for work,
Cut off his further help to "Lan"
And now is gone to help New York.
OF those who deal in iron and tin,
There's Baldwin, Zeigler-much unlike,
But both like greenbacks coming in
FROM Harry, 1Oul VI OlCh VI MINI
There's Pollock, Hough & Co., and Belz,
Make wagons, buggies, plows and sleighs,
Or anything of iron that sells.
And Benn and Brooker, when it pays,
Make doors and window blinds and sash,
To sell to any man for cash.
| OF Ressmever, he and Wedehase,
We buy both plain and gilded harness;
There's Alcorn and our neighbor Muesse
Contract to build your house with fairness
The men who make our shoes as Haines,
And Bartlett, Weber, johnson, Wenzel,
| And Hollister-all men of brains
Must not be sighted by my pencil.
| Our coats are made at Cooks or Hites,
And ladies get nice pull back tights,
OF Crosby, Reynolds, or of Schlosser;
Don't cross your lady's fashion plights-
To cross them only makes her crosser.
AT Mistress Hydes or Ira Bellows,
| At Horstman's or at Lisherness' house,
| If you proper sort of fellows,
You row and then may dine on grouse;
And always you will ind the fare
| Will fairly with your bill compare.
Our Jones and Baxter make our pills,
| And save sometimes the doctors bills,
| Or if our ills we cannot stay
Then Doctor Barber, any day,
| Or Kinney, Falley, Hassel, Clark,
Will cure us straight i'll day or dark,
Our Crosby keeps a candy shop
And Gibbs will dress your woody k0pf;
If for Won oyster you pc seegk
You goes to Poet Laureate Bieg
George Utt is prince of village grocers,
| Aud Vandewall the picture maker,
Makes handsome and enduring photos;
| While Barlow, active undertaken,
| Makes lounge or stead for tired reposer.
]. Barber finds with Gunter chain
| The measure of our small domain,
Good Eaton, Cummings, Burleson,
And Scott-they teach of things on higs,-
That, when our earthly race is run,
Our homes will be beyond the sky
| wish we had that kingdom here
To which they long to have US go,
But Book will write our title clear
To mansions plated here below.
IF friends disturb your last retreat
And claim the title to your bones
The limbs of law who can compete
For these as over kingly thrones,
Are Shrader, Bushnell, Barber Clark
Or Clementson and Thompson mark,
On such case, their solemn tones !
The swain who steals from lovely lips
Forgets the pearls, near which he sips
Were set by skill of Doctor Brown.
The Jewels shown in Murphey's case,
Would any lady's finger grace,
Or gem the rarest queenly crown
At Johnsons-books and toys so cunning
George HYDE, he sets machines to running
You need not hungry go to bed,
For Edwards bakes your daily bread.
If horse be i'll, you want to cure ii;
You 60 to Veterinary Stewart
The Kilbourns drive the livery biz,
O, how their moupted rigs go whiz
The bricks the working mason pats,