davidaulloa/AmericanStories huggingface dataset:
The Camden journal. [volume] (Camden, S.C.) 1866-1891, 1879-11-27
He Had IS BugSerS."
ISleubenvIlle Herald.l

The primary class in anatomy, physi-
ology and hygiene had new scholar,
and the teacher had forgotten to post
him as to what answer he should give
when the question came around to him.
The head was the subject under discus
sion that day, and the teacher began
with the members of the class who had
been present on previous occasions.
"What have you in your head? she
said to Johnny Jones.
brains, Miss" replied Johnny quite
correctly.
"And your she said to Tommy
Brown.
Muscles and nerves." answered
Tommy Brown.
:" And you, Jimmie Jackson%
" Bones and teeth and tongue" came
the reply.
"And you" she said, this time tnrn-
ing to the new scholar, who was very
much unsettled at being caught sticking
wicked looking thorn into his nearest
neighbor, "and you, little boy, what
have you in your head"'
Buggers!" he snug out, scratching
that organ and looking as if he deserved
q reward of merit.
The Camden journal. [volume] (Camden, S.C.) 1866-1891, 1879-11-27
A Female Blacksmith.

A woman died in Richmond, Va, a
few days ago, who had chosen the black
smiths forge as a means of earning a
living. Her name was Rachel Vent.
Her father came to this country from
Germany and opened blacksmith shop
in Richmond. She learned the trade in
her girlhood, and became as good a
worker as any man. As her father grew
old she took charge of the shop and sup
ported the family by her own labor.
She wore tight-6tting woolen dress
and a blacksmith's leather apron, and
frequently smoked short clay pipe as
she toiled. When the old man died she
still stuck to the trade, but few months
ago she grew enfeebled and rapidly
sunk. Her work had given her in her
best days the muscular strength of q
man. She had eligible offers for ma,
riage when young, but preferred to re-
main single and provide for the family.
The Camden journal. [volume] (Camden, S.C.) 1866-1891, 1879-11-27
Building Materials.

One thousand and fifty laths will cover
seventy yards of surface, and eleven
pounds of nails put them on.
Eight bushels of good lime, fifteen
bushels sand, and one bushel hair makes
enough good mortar to plaster one hum
dred square yards.
A cord of stone, three bushels lime,
and cubic yard of sand will lay one
hundred cubic feet of wall.
One thousand shingles laid four inches
to the weather will cover one hundred
square feet of surface, and five pounds
of nails will fasten them on.
One-ffth more flooring and siding is
needed than the number of square feet
of surface, because of the lap in the sid
ing and the matching of the floor.
Five courses of brick will lay one foot
in height on chimney; six bricks in a
course will make a fue four inches wide
and twelve inches long; eight bricks in
a course make fue eight inches wide
and sixteen inches long.
The Camden journal. [volume] (Camden, S.C.) 1866-1891, 1879-11-27
Solution OF q Mystery.
Chattanooga (Tenp.l Commercial. ]

In the summer of 1888, the Third
United States Artillery, commanded by
Col. Gates, was encamped at the foot of
Missionary Ridge engaged in the re-
noval of the Cherokee Indians. One
day the Colonel ordered out a fatigue
party to clean out the spring, beauti-
full fountain bubbling up, at the foot of
the ridge. Shortly after the Sergeant
reported to headquarters that his men
were all drunk. Says the Colonel:
"You should not let the men drink
whisky"
81 did not" replied the Sergeant;
"they drank nothing bat water from
the spring"
The Sergeant and men were ordered
into the guard-house, and new detail
ordered, and a Lieutenant placed in
command with orders tonot let the men
have access to- any spirits. Not long
after the Lieutenant reported the men
all drunk. The men were ordered to
the guard-house and the Lieutenant.
under arrest. Another party was or
dered out, of which Col. Gates took the
COLumduu. hO tOOh d SCdl vi SLuluU,
30 he could overlook the whole ground,
determined that there should be no get
ting drunk this time. But behold! in
q short time his mon were all drunk.
He was certain they had drunk nothing
but water, which they frequently did,
getting down on their knees and drink
ing from the branch just below the
spring.
The Colonel was at his wits end.
The men were ordered to the guard
house, and he repaired to his tent to
think. After weighing the matter pro
and con he had to give it up, and re-
pairing to the guard-house, he told the
men that, if they would show him how
it was done he would release them, other
wise he would punish them severely.
To this they agreed, and took him to the
spring; just below the spring in the
branch they unearthed a five gallon jug
partly filled with whisky, the mouth Of
which was stopped with cork, in which
was inserted quill that reached to the
bottom. When buried in the sand the
upper end of the quill was just above
the surface of the water, and when they
wanted to drink they stopped down, in
serted the quill in their mouth, and
while apparently drinking pure water
were drinking whisky, and the Colonel,
sitting on the stump in plain view, was
none the wiser.
The Camden journal. [volume] (Camden, S.C.) 1866-1891, 1879-11-27
Sentimentally Drunk.
Providence Journal.

The lights were out, the streets were
still, and all other presences were silent
in the presence of the peaceful night.
And at this time the soft but slightly
unsteady tread of a man was heard ap-
preaching the station. He took chair
near the door, dangled his legs over the
chairs arm. hung his peaked hat on tho
lue Of his boot. and ir 2 low voice ad-
dressed the officer: waS here year
ago and listened to the song of your
cricket under the mat there, and I want
to hear it again. The cricket comes
into my life exactly. he sings and all
his green-coated comrades sing of the
dying summer. There are millions Of
these little mourners under the leaves
tonight, and they all have one song Of
pensive sadness. There is q cricket in
my heart. There used to be summer
there. I am sort of an old cricket my
self. I crawl into the natural-formed
grape grottoes on the highway and sing
my own sad song there. Speaking of
cool, wild graperies reminds me that I
am athirst. Say, Sergeant, can't you
send sleuth messenger to the Club OF
the Purple Cluster and tell the yinous
triumvirate that are crowning their
chaste and marvellous brows with beauti-
full chaplets to send me, not an old
Roman punch even, nor a Greciam
amaranthe juelp, but a tod, mere
modern tod. Tell them l am always
with them, and I often commune when
on my promiscuous pilgrimage with the
acknowledgements me, mean dis
embodied-spirits; see their faces rapt
and purpling with the blood cf the
broken-hearted grape of the Garter
stream. But say, Sergeant, my blood is
turning into the channels of melancholy.
This must not be. Here are three coins.
I put one into wine and the world
fushes up to me; second coin, and I
own that block there, I am Mayor OF
Pawtucket, walk on thrones third,
and I hear rapturous music, float on
fair rivers, my old coat becomes as tho
garment of a great ruler; put my
warm heart against the cold marble Of
the world and | warm it with its generous
glow. The world is no longer marble
tomb to me. 1t opens, and enchanting
forms come forth and embrace me and
bid me 20 on. The gates of eternity
open with a majestic welcome to the
man who defes fortune and dares to
grandly live it out"
"But those are not coins," said the
officer, "they are buttons"
"Well, buttons so let them bc-ahI
that song again-the song of the cricket.
Officer, let me sleep here under the
magnetism of the mighty midnight
heavens, and let the lady crickets
serenade me-"
The Camden journal. [volume] (Camden, S.C.) 1866-1891, 1879-11-27
Some Natural History-The Editor.

"What ferocious-looking animal is
this?'
THAT is the editor"
"Indeed! Are they very dangerous?
"Sometimes. Wien cornered up they
have been known to be quite combative,
and again they have been known to go
through a convenient back window.
Generally they are mild and passive"
"When are they the most dangerous"
"When intrudcd upon by book agent
who wants a forty-iive line local for q
seventy-tive cent book, or by poet with
verses about the gentle spring"
care editors cross to each OtherT'
"0nly. when separated by several
"Do they often have fearful combats
with each otherw
occasionally when they so out in op-
posite directions, and come upon each
other by accident
care editors ever cowhdedoo'
"Sometimes the small ones are, but
the big ones are very rarely molested."
ado editors cat!"'
'They do. 1t was formerly supposed
that they ate at long intervals and upon
rare occasions but it is now a we'll
authenticated fact that they can eat
a great deal when they can get it."
"What kind Of food 10 they like the
mostT
"They are not very particular. While
they won't refuse quail on toast, fried
crab or roast turkey about Christmas
time, they have been known to make a
hearty repast off dish of cold turnips
and consumptive herring"
"Can they eat concert ticketsT
Owe believe not. Some people have
gained this curious impression from
false teachings in early life, but no
authenticated instance is on record"
"Do editors 80 free into shows?'
"They do when they give dollar and
half locals for twenty-five cent ticket"
"Are all editors bald, like this one?"
"No; only the married are bald. But
let US pass on; the editor does not like
to be stared at.
The Camden journal. [volume] (Camden, S.C.) 1866-1891, 1879-11-27
The Multiplied Dangers.
Burlington uawi;eye.I

Burlington HaUkeye.I
"You were in the war, then, Captain
McKillcnw
ooh, yes, ma'am, yes, ma'am; fought
all through it"
as there not" she asked hesitatingly,
"a great deal of danger in battle~
"Well, yes" the Captain replied, re-
fectiyely. there is, there is So many
men standing around you, you know,
and such careless handling of firearms as
is almost sure to occur during battle,
makes it really very unsafe"
Miss Lollipop shuddered, and then re.
sumed:
"Are not some people severely injured
at timesw
EYES," the Captain said, "they are.
I once had a friend who was hurt so
badly that lie couldn't leave his room for
several days"
And then she said she thought there
ought to ha law against them, and he
said he believed the Legislature of Iowa
contemplated passing some such law at
its next session.
And she said she was 80 glad.
The Camden journal. [volume] (Camden, S.C.) 1866-1891, 1879-11-27
The Common School the Farmers' Hope.

Prof. Elbridge Gale, of Kansas, upon
the subject of common schools for the
rural class, writes rs follows in the Ri
raj Ncw- Yorker: Much has been said
and written in regard to an improved
culture of the rural classes. They are
demanding something more than
hitherto, and asserting for themselves
higher position in the social scale.
While there are steps backward as well
as forward in all movements towards
higher civilization, we may be sure that
the end here sought will be reached.
Agriculture in all its departments must,
in years to come, command higher
class of talent and broader culture
than in the past. While we are incEnsd
to give high honors to the rural press,
to the associations and societies formed
to promote rural interests, and 10 agri-
cultural colleges, where they all recog-
nize the object of their creation, the
more Intelligent among the masses are
feeling that they can justly demand
something more for the children in the
common schools than Las hitherto been
offered them. We ask that the culture
of the common school, shall be turned in
some slight degree towards rural and
industrial interests. A more general
diffusion of knowledge relating to agri-
cultural and industrial pursuits is de-
manded. Our children need culture
that shall impel towards farm life. This
cannot be attained by the instrumental
tiles now employed.
Hence we propose that the common
school shall be made more tributary to
our rural interests. We want an ele-
1nentary course of instruction in mat
tiers, both practical and scientific, that
relate directly to rural life. This should
be so elementary in its character that
the great mass of our children may ac-
quire it by the time they are fourteen
years old. By this means the common
school will, to certain extent, become
the training school of our agricultural
and industrial colleges. These latter
institutions will then have opened to
them q much wider field of usefulness
and the possibility of much more
thorough culture to those who may enjoy
their advantages.
The Camden journal. [volume] (Camden, S.C.) 1866-1891, 1879-11-27
THE DYING SOLDIER.
BY DR. ia MOTLLE.

Ia Leoend Of Fair Oaks unite Jou0ht IN Virginia,
JHne /, 1sG2.]
On his cot soldier lay
faithful nurse was by.
Praying he might not de
Dying, but not for bloody bay.
To help crush rebellion's dire prtde
He had left his dear "bonny" bride.
He gave his life for freedoms cause that day.
His lips moved, something to tell.
He thought she was his mother;
He seemed like brother.
Weeping, she watched bis bosom's faint swell,
Warmly she clasped each Chilly palm,
Over his face there grew calm.
She family heard: Sweet love, dear home, fave
WE'LL"
He had dreamed, doomed soldier-boy,
OF his own distant home.
Where she would lonely roam,
Deploring her dear, departed Joy.
And II was we'll. That darling thought
Soothed him in death. His smile was caught
From paradise. where mover comes annoy.
SHABBoSA GROVE. Ill.
The Camden journal. [volume] (Camden, S.C.) 1866-1891, 1879-11-27
SHE DIDN'T MEAN TO TELL.

Yes, my lips tonight have spoken
Words I said thcy should not speak;
And would l could recall them
Would had not been so weak.
Oh. that one unSuardcd moment.
We're it mine 10 live again,
All the strength 0f its temptation
Would appear TO me in vain.
True my lips have only uttered
What is ever in my heart:
I am happy when beside him,
Wrrtchrd when W arc apart;
Though listen 10 his praises
Always longer than should.
let my heart ran never hear them
Hall 80 often Ia il wOGli
And | would not. could hot. pain him,
Would not iur The world offend.
I would have him know liked him
a. 4 brother 49, y iric!ri:
Bur nCInt Ia kr-p ~" ~'rrct
~ nav h'>"m always lid.
l"r never meal. 1" :rll him
That love hni--:.ut | did
The Camden journal. [volume] (Camden, S.C.) 1866-1891, 1879-11-27

LIZZIE w. FLETCHER asks IN a poem
"If l should die tonight what would
you do" Liz, that's a very refreshing
conurdrum for this season. If you
should die tonight it would of course
necessitate visit of the coroner in the
morning. and then, you know, Liz, we'd
have to buy you new clothes to wear in
the other place, and a minister with
great lantern jaws would stand over you
and say good things. Then we'd have to
hire carriages, you know, and times are
very hard, and money isn't very plenti.
full. A frst-class funeral costs about
$3.50, Liz; so don't for the world think
of going off suddenly. Wait until things
look little better for speculation.
The Camden journal. [volume] (Camden, S.C.) 1866-1891, 1879-11-27
WHAT AIS TUE woRLDr

"What ais the world?" the poet cried
And why does death walk every whereof
Aud why do tears fall anywhere?
And skies have clouds, and souls have carer
Aud thus the poet sang, and sighed.
For ne would fain have all things glad,
All lives happy, all hearts bright
Not 4 day would end in night,
No; = wrong would vex right
And 50 he slug-and he was sad.
Tho his very grandest rhymes
Moved mOurniul MONOTONE
Ike shadow eastward ,hr6wa
f-nu s;in~ct-liEc 4 mEGn
Tans,ed in i ny-bcll's chimes.
"What ails the wOrli?" he sang, and asked
And asked and sang-bui MI in vain
y" answer C.irne u any strain.
And 10 reply 10 his rclra!l--
The mystery moved round him. masked.
"WaAi Nil, tho world" aT echo came
Mis- the vniii"' The minstrel bands
WIZ iTr',i:> ~ forgotten harId>.
IT,, rv ;h,ir Tyres in all Ike lands,
AaI !,ss., alike, and ask the saint
r "a wi''<e soul first s''ircd in song
o., 'l,u.lrl-. NnU<rIIi wears away,
: . n..i whp Sin.. hut Yesterday,
l. Z, ny or III d"ril">S ..iy--
y at lis ;Iv wUIid?' comes from the throng.
Tn" al. w"ui'l sin: the world 10 rest
IN! =" ;Hrv chan; in countless keys
~ uiary ~ liic w.iv' ii Sc;>,
A.t Is The braihirsS Of the G-eczc,
Yet even when they sing their best
When DER the listring world there doats
Such melody as Iapturcs inen-
When all look up cntranccd--and when
The s,Lg OF fame floats iorih--e'en then
A discord creepeth thro' the notes.
Their sweetest harpS have broken strings
Their grandest accorls have their jars
Like shadows Oh the light OF stars
Aud somehow, something ever nar1
The song the greatest minstrel sings-
And so each song il incomplete,
And not rhyme can ever round
Into the chords Of perfect sound,
The tones OF thought that e'er surround
The ways walked by the poets feet.
"Wha, ais the worldT" he sings and dghs-
No answer coneth to his cry
He asks the earth and asks the sky
The echoes Of his song pass by
Unanswered-and the poet dies.
The Camden journal. [volume] (Camden, S.C.) 1866-1891, 1879-11-27

A LADY with little boy went into 3
we'll known restaurant the other day
and after the two had absorbed food,
demurred against paying for what ths
child had eaten, on the ground that he
was under ten years Of age. 1t was
with some difficulty that she was made
to understand that railroad rules do not
apply in eating saloons.
The Camden journal. [volume] (Camden, S.C.) 1866-1891, 1879-11-27

A YOUNG lady was endeayoring to
impress upon the minds of her Sunday
school scholars the sin and terrible
punishment Of Nebuchadnezzar, and
when she said that for seven years he
ate grass like a cow, she was astonished
by little girl, who asked, "Dii he give
millrT'
The Camden journal. [volume] (Camden, S.C.) 1866-1891, 1879-11-27
Severe DrOughts.


An interesting record is that of severe
droughts as far back as the landing of
the Pilgrims. "How many thousand
times are observations made like the fol-
lowing: Such cold season" "Such
hot season" "Such dry weather" or
"Such wet weatherp "Such high winds
or calms!" etc. All those that think
the dry spell we had last spring was the
longest ever Known, will do well to read
the following:
In the summer of 1921, "a days in
succession without rain.
In the summer of 1880, IL days in
succession without rain.
In the summer of 1867, rs days in sue
cession without rain.
In the summer of 1862, 80 days in sue
cession without rain.
In the summer of 1874, 45 daysin sue
cession without rain.
In tho summer of 1850, 81 days in sue
cession without rain.
In the sumner of 1904, 62 DAYS in sue
cession without rain.
In the summer of l705, 40 days in Sue
cession without rain.
In the summer of lila, 81 days in sue
ccssion without rain.
In the summer of 1928, 81 days in sue
cession without rain.
In the summer of 1870, 90 days in Sue
cession without rain.
In the summer of l741, - days in Sue
cessiOn without rain.
In the summer of i749, los days in sue
cession without rain.
In the summer OF 1755, ~ days in sue.
cession without rain.
In the summer of 1862, 122 daysin sue
cession without rain.
In the summer of 1913, so days in sue
cession without rain.
In the summer of 1871, 80 days in sue
cession without rain.
In the summer Of 1902, % days in sue
cession without rain.
In the summer of 1872, % days in sue
ccssion without rain.
In the summer of 1856, "a days in sue
cession without rain.
In the summer of 1871, ~ days in sue
cession without rain.
In the summer Of 1875, 26 days in Sue
eession without rain.
In the summer Of 1876, q days in sue
cession without rain.
It will be seen that the longest drought
that ever occurred in America was in the
summer of 1862. No rain fell from the
first of May to the first of September,
making 123 days without rain. Many
of the inhabitants sent to England for
hay and grain
The Camden journal. [volume] (Camden, S.C.) 1866-1891, 1879-11-27
Fat.
fLemar, Sentinel.l

Fat.
fLemar, sen.nsl.l
If we are not nation,
If political assassinations,
Midday murders, and
Open treason
Are Eryond the reach of the gener
government. Let us either
Proclaim the nation, or
Kick Mississippi out of the Union.
tPell, Blade.l
Py
Gracious!
Vas
Dot
So?
You found him
Oudt2
New York world.l
After mature deliberation we hav
come to the conclusion that
the frenzied utterances
of
the Okolona Southern States
and
the Lemars Sentinel
(being always printed in this staccatc
style)
contain for the
compositors
of these journals
The Camden journal. [volume] (Camden, S.C.) 1866-1891, 1879-11-27

IT is surprising how many people
there are in this world that do not like
to work between meals
The Camden journal. [volume] (Camden, S.C.) 1866-1891, 1879-11-27
The Novel Of the Future.
Newark Advertiser.l

Epochs in literature are as plainly
defined as those in art, and the modern
novel, the creation of the cheap print
ing-press, has attained its climax and
is gradually waning, if not towards a
complete disappearance, at least to
that subservient position in letters
from which it should never have arisen.
Its evanescent quality IS seen IN the few
books that ever attain to the dignity
of position on the library shelf. They
are essentially Summer reading;" they
belong to the swift speeding railway
train, to shady corner on steamboat,
to the hammock under the trees; and
when they are once read they pass into
the hands of anyone who chooses to
pick them up, or as fair prizes Tor the
butler or the cook or finally to the
dust-bin and the kitchen fire. Let
man of means start out now to form
library, how many recent works OF tic-
ton would he choose for the place OF
honor upon his shelves? Everything
that is made too common pals upon
the appetite, and there is where the
sensation novel has met its fate. There
is undoubted genius in all branches OF
literature, but it is not exhaustless.
Charlotte Bronte, George Eliot, Victor
Hugo, Dumas, Charles Reade, Thackery
and a few others did marvellous, and in
some cases, most honorable work, but
when will they live again in others, or
their books be initiated? A great novel
may be q kindly dish, but we should
turn away nauseated even from salmon,
If fed constantly for q month on red
herring. That there has been a terri
BILE decline in our literary proyender IN
the line of romance is plain. They are
stupid rehashes of worn out subjects;
they distort love, violate the probabill--
ties, give common sense black eye and
turn life into pantomime. What will
the coming novel be? The new era has
hardly opened and while we are waiting
for it there is large republication OF
old standard works, many of them of ex-
cellent quality and which are far better
worth reading than modern trash.
They belong, however, to the past, and
can only fill an interregnum. Circum-
stances seem to be tending to something
even more realistic than what we have
had, because more faithful to nature
and to home. The novel of the past has
put all its characters on stilts-hereafter
they are likely to walk on the ground; |;
they have worn doublet and hose now
they will come to us dressed in the fash
ion of to-day. Novels, like pictures,
must have coloring; they must take. a
bit of life here and bit there, and an
exact record of the daily existence Of
our Darbys and Joans would be as
tasteless as soup without seasoning, but
we may hope to find hereafter, whatever
may be the frame work, those charms
and beauties which, born of q correct
taste and artistic skill, shall largely deal
with the world as it is, and present to
the mind those ideal existelices which
the young may read without having
their passions excited and their ideas Of
humanity distorted. Let the lessons of
literature be sound and wholesome and
there will be little to ask for.