Life — January 10, 1884 — page 4: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

18 NO PUBLIC SPIRIT? VERY little while some new movement or another reveals the heterogeneous character of New York social life, its lack of esprit de corps, where such spirit is needed. great city, perhaps, could have had such a compliment paid it as that implied in the Bartholdi statue and ignore it as has New York, And now that a number of really public-spirited citizens of leisure and means combine to give some of their time, and | others of their treasures, to help raise a fund for the pedestal to the_great statue, the papers are rather silent about the enter- prise, or drop a few words as charily as if, like the girl in the fairy tale, their words were pearls and diamonds, and might be turned over gratis to the raising of the fund.—Boston Transcript. One would infer from the above that New Yorkers are deficient in public spirit. to be unaware of the fact that money has been pour- ing in from our prominent citizens at a rate which would almost finish the pedestal within the lifetime of many who are now living; that one or two of our wealthiest men have actually promised money to the cause without demanding a mortgage on the statue or asking for any security whatever; and that many whose incomes scarcely exceed a hundred thousand a year have freely subscribed, their contributions often varying from fifty cents to more than a dollar each. Although the statue is practically sticking in the mud, it is not impossible that we may at some future period extricate it without calling upon the country at large for assistance. This is by no means the first time in history that | pride and public spirit have prompted a generous people to give more than they could afford, and yet we seem to be regarded with contempt, not only by our own countrymen, but by foreigners as well. A SYNDICATE of capitalists has bought a large tract of land surrounding the great Shoshone Falls, of the Snake River, Idaho, and in cold blood they announce that they will make this spot the Niagara of the West. Now, do you see? That thing comes of the acquit- tal of the great robber, Frank James. The reign of brigandage has been endorsed in the West, and next year it won't be safe for a man on a salary to go near Idaho. A KERCHIEF, BUT filmy fabric it, ‘tis true, As soft as down and bright as amber, Brocaded with gay threads as blue As flowers that up my trellis clamber. Upon one silky side behold, Embroidered neat, some blooming roses, While on the other, flecked with gold, A bright-winged butterfly reposes. And though ’tis but a trifle, yet A something sweet upon it lingers ; ’T is neither “‘ rose” nor ‘‘ mignonette,” But the faint touch of fairy fingers. CLINTON SCOLLARD, No other | The Transcript seems | | that the Post were nearer. | what clothes-pins were. > LIFE: SusPENDING PayMENT.—“ Hanging it up.” Upon THE SQUARE.—The compass. A Bap Lor.—A zealot. A Harp Lot.—A New Hampshire pasture. Knee Pius Uttra.—The ballet girl’s limbs. A Carirat Ipga.—IpEa. THE LAST OF THE PIE-EATERS. BY JADE-OYLE. TRONGLY outlined against the Summer sky, Yal- lerhammer stood on the rowel of a sharp spur of the Rocky Mountains. The majesty of his form was only surpassed by its freedom from the fashionable garb of Broadway civilization. Yallerhammer was the last of the Pie-Eaters, once one of the most powerful tribes that ever stampeded a mule corral or inhaled fire-water ; but the wasting in- | fluence of Border vengeance and Eastern soldiery and sixty proof still-juice had sent his compatriots on their last long journey and left him alone, and conspicuous for nothing but ancestral heroism and promptness at the Commissary on ration day. A proud spirit, nevertheless, lingered beneath his time-stained and rent hickory shirt, and the remnant of a better man is seldom protected by Government trousers. From his lofty eminence Y. H. viewed the scenic panorama that floated before his vision, and wished Drawing from the hip pocket of his cerulean-lined pantaloons a portentous document, which proved to be his order for supplies, he calmly set himself to its perusal. It was formed after the manner of a prescription, and was written in a forgotten language. A leisurly glance at the writing told the lonely Y. H. that it was Latin; upon discov- ering which, he instantly read as follows : Deliver to bearer the following articles, to wit : Two tins of light-weight oysters. Two tins of light-weight tomatoes. One tin of American sardines. One bushel of pea meal. Five pounds of New Process sugar. One pound of oleomargarine. One quart of cotton-seed oil. One box short count clothes-pins. Ten pounds No. 2 bacon. One pound common gelatine. One bottle salad dressing. Ten pounds Irish potatoes. One pound alum baking powder. (Signed) FITZ DE FITZ, A. M.Q.G. U.S. A, Yallerhammer paused as if lost in reverie; a load seemed to clog his once active faculties ; he wondered Lighting his discolored T. D. comicbooks.com