The Yakima herald. [volume] (North Yakima, W.T. [Wash.]) 1889-1914, 1890-09-11
FIVE OF THE VERY BEST.
True Narration Of Jerry CrOEiOOt and
His Choice.
How Lightning struck the Church.
The Convenience Of the Mckinley
BIII I'm the Family Circle, Etc.

During q picnic held by the colored
order Of Odd Fellows, according to the
Chicago Herald, lightning struck the tree
under which the festivities were con-
Quoted. The following Sunday old Dan
Hightower, a cOlored preacher Of great
Tenown, arose and said:
"Bruders and sisterers, we'se jest had
er awful Illustration o. whut de Lawd
thinks O. de wickedness O. dis yere Worl'I
While dem follerers O. Satan wuz eT dane
in an er skylarkin' under dat tree, an
wen da Oughter been er prayin' ur raisin'
money fur ter git dis yere church outer
debt, yere comes de lightnin' O. de Lawd
an struck de tree. Oh, whut er warnin'
wuz dat, sinner man! Sinner pusson,
les stop fer er mint an think whut er
warnin' came down on dat ercasion! De
sinners got up money fer dat picnic, but
wen I axes 'em fur money ter help save
ther souls, wy da ginter grunt an plain
er hard times. Neber mine; de lightnin'
gwine come wuz den dat naixt time de
sinners an de folks dat tend like da is
Christians gifts up one O. dem picnics.
Wy, bruders, er picnic amt nuthin' but
ol' Satan er sunnin' hisself. Bruder Nal.
lory put down dat winder, ef you pleases,
sab, dar's a rain cunin' up. De sinners
is er buckin' right er gin de church wen
da goes off dater-"
There came terrific peal Of thunder
and vivid flash Of light. One corner Of
the church fell and the rain came pouring
in. The old preacher did not lose his
presence Of mind, for when, the fright
was over, Skinner man" asked what he
thought Of the lightning striking the
church as well as a tree under which q
picnic was held, he said:
ITS disser way: De lightnin' hab got
so ulster strikin' at desc sinners dat it
kaint keep still, an you'se got it 50 mad
It doan' know whar it's hittin'."
!, 80
az tell you, the affairs Of this country
will never be run right until women take
a hand in EN-" said a newly married
citizen. THE other afternoon a fellow
got me into a discussion over the Nc
Kinley bill, and went home to supper
feeling hot. In the course Of the eve
ming my wife remarked very sweetly and
insinuatingly-
"John, dear, she said, 4 saw an only
too lovely piece Of goods to-day, and /
intend to order dress off Of II to-mor-
row.
~ knew that meant a fifty at least,
but l said nothing for some time. had
an idea though and finally l decided to
risk it.
"I wish that chap would quit bother
ing me about that Mckinley bill, l said,
he worries the life out Of me with it,
"'Oh, pay it, John, dear, pay itP said
my wife. Don't let it worry you any
longer! I'll wait till next month for my
dress. Pay it, won't you. dear?'
Il promised to pay 1t the very next day,
and tell you right here that unless we
have q woman at the helm pretty soon,
the ship Of state is bound for the rocks"
i 50
Wilson Barrett's recent tour of the
United States filled that gentleman's
ready mind with a stock Of stories that
Il will take year for him to work of
on his English friends. By that time
he will be ready to come over here
again.
Mr.. Barrett arrived in a western city
one evening few months ago, says the
Pittsburgh Dispatch, and upon leaving
his train was confronted by an invita-
ton to dinner. In order to facilitate
matters the actor stopped at a barber
shop on his way up from the railway
station and got into q chair for a shave.
Before he had been lathered thoroughly
the barber said:
"You look a good deal like Barrett,
the actor"
Mr.. Barrett looked at the man quickly,
but noticing that he appeared serious,
settled back in his chair with a half
questioning "YesH"
"Oh, yes," went on the barber famil-
iarly, enough like him to be his brother
but you can thank yer stars yer not him.
Good lookin' fellaT, but no man to him,
not Bit"
Mr.. Barrett began to feel uneasy, but
he said nothing.
"An' my private opinion is, continued
the tonsorlal artist, "he can't act"
Mr.. Barrett grunted.
"An' l hear he don't pay his comp"
"What?" broke In Mr.. Barrett.
"Why, don't pay his compn'y-the
people that's made him, you know"
Mr.. Barrett could stand no more, but
pulling the towels from around his neck,
he darted, half shaved, into the street.
Everybody in the shop looked after
the fleeing man, thinking him crazy.
The barber watched him until he had
passed out Of sight and then remarked
calmly: