The Republican. [volume] (Oakland, Md.) 1877-current, 1882-06-03
NUMBER IA.

ldent Arthur to-day madly fling away
his scepter of power and resign his
lofty position if he could once more
De placed back at the threshold of
life; with his pantaloons hanging by
one home-made suspenderr
How empty and how vain are the
g'ories that crown the hero ofa thous-
and battles. How worthless are the
faded laurels that crown the billions.
plmply brow of greatness. We com.
Dat with all humanity for a proud
position, and just as we get our name
In print we find that our digestion
has gone back on us. and the over
taxed gastric department must be
sent to the shop for repairs.
Then come those retrospective long.
ings for the dreamy nights long since,
when The Katydid sung in the Au-
gust grass and the waterIemou went
to its long home. Then come golden
memories of the bright days of mid.
summer, when beneath the bending
willow we bathed in the sunny depths
of the silent pool and speared the
warty toad with an old pitchfork.
1t is a proud day to the ambitious
statesman, when in the flush of VIC.
tory he stands before the applauding
host OF those who have carried him
upward to this glorious moment,
when he feels his own strength and
calmly surveys the CORY field over
which he has fought. But when
every man who voted for him has
asked and petitioned him for the
nine dollar poslOffice at his old home,
and threatens to bolt all nominations
and disrupt the party if he cannot
have it, there steals over the senses of
the great statesman the fruitless ;sh
that he may be taken back. to the old
home where he shared gophers with
an old fish-line, or pasted blue mud
all oyer his freckled skin, and ran
along the beach in the warm July
air and scared the frisky horses of
the young lovers who drove along the
pebbly shore.
Greatness is to be sought for and
desired because it stirs the stagnant
ambition of man and helps him to
kill time, but fresh laurels and bronze
medals cannot minister to pair of
torpid kidneys. The praise of men
and the smiles of beautiful women
cannot bring Joy to the heart of
hollow-eyed statesman who cannot
| digest anything but oat-meal mush
and distilled Graham juice.
The world is full of great men, men
who, when they write their names on
a hotel register, are sure that they
will te interviewed by newspaper
men and their words printed before
breakfast !; men who wear Prince
Albert coats every day and talk
dramatically even when they are
mad but the COLLECTION of happy men
men who laugh and have fun and
meyer miss meals comparatively
small. Wealth does not always do
the business, either. Money can buy
off the opinions of the public scme.
times, and take the edge from popu.
lar censure, but it cannot choke off
the nightmare or still the vague un.
rest of a congested liver. '""
1t is ever thus through life. He
who has big bank account may also
have the bilious collie. and he whose
name is found on every page of ma
tion's history may have an ingrowing
toe-naiI that makes his life burden
to him. If we could look at this life
philosophicallv and live on soda
crackers, and calm the consuming
ambitions which torture, the great
would not come nigh us, and when
we died, the human hound who sur
vived us would not Zig up our crumb.
ling bones and spread our errors out
before gaping, grinning world,
while our widow and orphans would
suffer thousand agonies, helpless
under the iron heel of the relentless
slanderer of the dead. Blessed is the
dead whose worthless dust belongs
alone TO his sorrowing relatives and
his God. The public did not feed
him during life, and in death it can
not blacken his name.-Nye's Boom
| prnnn