The Carbon advocate. [volume] (Lehighton, Pa.) 1872-1924, 1886-08-28


bevond the grave-there was nothing
left but death and vengeance; he chose
both and dragged down the pillars Of
the house about him, engulhng friends
and enemies alike in one common
ruin.
Squire hears of the death Of Thompson
with infinite satisfaction. His foe is
dead, and the letter will trouble him no
more; but the dead hand strikes from
the grave, the fatal letter has passed in
to the possession of his bitterest enemy,
VIM. r. Grace, the Mayor of New York.
When it was hintad that such letter
was in existence, Mr. Squire denied that
he ever wrote it, and Maurice b. Flynn
who indited it, declared on his honor
that he never heard of it. What reve-
lation to go forth to the world as an in
dicaton of the blessings of a Republican
form of government. Look at the net
and mark what it drags up from this foul
and Shiny sea. Two mayors with char
acters smirched and blackened. Two
Commissioners of Public Works, with
records that may lodge the only living
one in penitentary. Nearly the entire
Board Of Aldermen in the criminal dock.
The President of the Board of Health
with States prison staring him in the
face. The City Chamberlain under fear
of criminal Indictment. The late Sheriff,
the companion of tn ewes, and fugitive
from justice. That's politics. Yes, it
is just such politics that has placed these
men in public life, and made possible as
our rulers Paddy Diver, Jimmy Oliver,
Mike Norton and Fatty Walsh. 1t is,
at least, a satisfaction to feel that we
have sounded the profoundest depths of
political degradation, and if we move at
all it must be upward. There is some
thing radically wrong in our present
system of municipal government, but
how toremedy it-as Hamlet says, "Aye,
that's the question"
From the Improvements now going
on another old landmark will soon dis
appear from Broadway. and the home
stead of the millionaire Goelets will be a
thing of the past. Long years ago when
their comfortable home by the Battery
became surrounded by the marts of trade,
old Peter Goelet and his brother fled in
TO the country, which now lies between
Union and Madison Square. They built
large square substantial house sur.
rounded by ample grounds, and here
they lived and died. The city grew
around them, but they refused to move.
Pet cows ramble about the enclosure.
and peacoclts, jungle fowl and other rare
birds, played on the grass or hid in the
shrubbery. The roar of great city
night and day, surged and thundered
against their doors, but they heard it
not, for they were both as deaf as ad-
ders. Their thousands swelled to mil
lions, and their millions to tens of mil
lions, but they were still the same close
penurious pair that they were when they
began fighting the battle of life. They
wrote receipts Oh odd scraps of paper,
sewed their buttons on their clothes,
and rolled up fortune of twenty mill
ions and then died. Their great fortune
passed to their nephews, Ogden Goelet
and Elbridge Gerry, both liberalminded.
generous gentlemen-Mr. Gerry being
Commodore of the New York Yacht
Club, and President of the Society for
the Prevention of Cruelty to Children,
and Mr.. Goelet one of the foremost
yachtsman in the United States.
1t has been tremendous week for our
city by the sea, Coney Island. Gilmore,
the Great, has been giving the million
feast of music, which he alone can give.
No strikes or Carl Salm clubs reach him !:
his band clings to him and he to them
like father and children, and no wonder,
for it is esteemed among musicians,
greater honor to be a member of Gil
more's band than to be the leader of an
ordirary orchestra. 1t is worth long
journey to hear that band, and worth
double the price of admission to see
Gilmore lead. Our tourists are return
ing with much wisdom but no cash.
BROADBRIM.