Puck — February 13, 1878 — page 3: what you’re looking at

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

ESSENTIAL OIL OF CONGRESS. SENATE, Wasiincton, February 8, 1878. The Silver Bill again. Senator Hitt had come io the conclusion that the discussion of the question required no ornamentation. It was well that it didn’t, be- cause he wasn’t much of a hand at rhetoric. For his part, he'd be willing to go back to the Spartan Monetary policy and coin iron dollars, same size as gold ones, and make them of equal “value. This would encourage the iron trade. SENATOR BLAINE wished to know if he rightly understood Senator Hill. Senator Hitt said he couldn't supply brains to Senator Blaine. Senator Buaine. “Onthe contrary. Iwant to give him some of mii Senator Hitt continued: “Niggers liked silver and this was an unanswerable argument for its being remonetized. ‘They might hoard it and in a few hundred years it would prob- ably be worth more than Gold. Bond-holders and class legislation were his particular horrors, that is to say, class legislation if it touched his pocket. He (Senator Hill) was the boss, par- ticular incarnation of everything that was re- presentative. He represented the people, the government and the truth. He strongly ob- jected to people saying that there was such a thing as fraud in the legislation. Everybody knew or ought to know that this was the finest government in the world. Senator Wituers never had a decided opinion about anything and was ready to go “all round my hat,” and veer to any point of the compass that the situation might require. Gold was gold and silver was silver and vice versa. He defied anybody to prove anything to the contrary. New Englanders were hoard- ing greenbacks and were going to change them for gold. Senator Eaton said that if Senator Wi- thers's credit was good enough, he could bor- row fifty millions of dollars in New York on good security. ATOR RaNDOLPH knew how it was himself, Senator Wituers hadn't finished yet. The taxpayer had been suffering since the close of the war in the interest of the bondholder. What a happy country this ought to be, when we found how suspicious European holders of our bonds were becoming, that they were now sending them here to find out if they were worth five cents on the dollar, Let Americans owe money to themselves —no people were bet- ter atthe business of owing. Repudiate every- thing; make brass pinchbeck; copper, tin and silver legal tenders. Let a dollar be made out of any metal to suit the fancy of the holder, and then the United States would become the best-governed country on the globe, its citizens the honestest and the happiest, its coinage the most debased and admirable, its fiscal policy _ the most unprincipled, and its statesmen the most contemptible. Do all this, aad the great American Eagle would have to flap his wings with redoubled vigor. PUCK. SCISSORS AND QUILL. A lady in Black Rock, Ct., noticed for several days recently that the earth in one of her flower-pots was dis- turbed, and at last made an examination, which brought to light four live adders about a foot long, snugly curled up in the bottom.— Boston Globe. But would not a little Brown Jug make aman see snakes as soon as a Black Crock ? « Poker” is the name of a new playin San Francisco. + | It ought to «draw.”—M. ¥. Com. Ade Not if the actors get “ full In London, years ago, a prize of $50 was offered for the best original joke, and Horne Tooke it.—Norristown Herald. Now, be honest. - Didn't Theodore Hook it?—(?) We don't know about that, but we believe a London publisher Hiddit.— Detroit Free Press. Now we should have A Ward-ed it differeatly.—W. Y. Com. Adv. We know some Hood have thought diffe ently, : What's one man’s fish is another man’s foisson,—Bos- ton Post. Truite is. The government has offered Bayard Taylor, the trans- lator of Goethe, the mission to Berlin, and if he is sharp he will Goethe.’ N. B.—If you can’t pronounce the lat- ter name you will see the joke, but not much of it. It’s only a little one.—P. /. Alan. No self-respecting joker would try to jest in this Schiller-Shaller way. Miss Mary Anderson has decided to appear no longer in a play in which she has been successful, as it conflicts with her sense of maidenly propriety to assume the attire ofa young man. Perhaps our Annie Louise Cary felt so at first, but if she did, she has bravely got over it, for at the “Faust” matinee she looked very piquant with her little purple mantle and purple tights, but, indeed, if her mother had seen her she wouldn't have recognized her. —Hartford Times. So Miss Anderson does not like it and Miss Cary does?—ahem, Miss Cary iias a good pair. LITERARY NOTES. — A literary fortnightly calls Miss Braddon a novel factory, a human hopper for the turning out of fiction. "Human hopper- well, since she is fair, fat, and forty-five or so, why not agrasse hopper? — Now that Bret Harte has published “A Story of Mine,” Joaquin Miller will have to bring out ‘« My Awful Whopper,” and Eli Per- kins, emerging from his retirement at Sazerac, will lecture on “Truth, Solid Truth.” — Mr. Edgar Fawcett has written poems on all the flowers of the field, and has now taken to do the dwellers in the sky —meteors and such. In time he will come to chemistry, and we shall expect stanzas on a stalagnite, a sonnet on sodium, and an epic on ipecac. — Mr. de Cordova has a new lecture on “That Dog Next Door.” It must be something of a task for sedate New England lecture com- mittees to find all the bootjacks and brickbats needed to adequately illustrate any adequate discussion of the subject. — The Library Zable has a neat criticism on “The Sparkling Cu a ‘temperance drama,” founded on a T. S. Arthurian legend, and more interesting for those who like that sort of thing, as Mr. Lincoln would have said, than Tennyson's more polished lines. — Since the discontinuance of the Galaxy Mr. Richard Grant White has much spare time, and so we hear that he is to run a paragraph column in the Alantic, - FITZNOODLE IN AMERICA. No. XLVI. VARIOUS SUBJECTS DISCUSSED, Ya-as, there’s a gweat deal going on now in aw this city. Jack and I weceive numer- wous aw cards and invitations to we- ceptions, balls and dinnah-parties. There are Amer- wicans he-ahwho call themselves aw “ society.” Don't weally know what the deuce that means, Perwhaps they give it the name because they are verwy fond of each othah’s society. But, ‘pon my soul, this twibe of people are tolerwa- bly endurwable aw, I may even aw say. agwee- able, and of course they like to have fellaws like Jack and me at their tables. Those who have Fwench cooks don’t give bad dinnahs, by Jove; and some of these af- fairs are managed in quite the pwopah English style, with verwy little of the Amerwican na- turwal barbarwism in such aw mattahs, The gweatest dwawback is that a fellaw nevah aw knows to whom he is talking. The girl may be decent enough, but 1s pwobably a twadesman’s daughter, and the fellaw a member of Con gwess or a pwofessional man. I have also been dwagged to some aw ar- wangements which are called literwawy wecep- tions. “I weally didn’t want to go, but Jack said it was all wight, and that a stwanger ought to make it his business to see everwything in a new countwy, I was aw intwoduced to a cadaverwous look- ing, dwied-up, middle-aged female cweature, who edits perwiodicals about dwessmaking and embwoiderwy and such descwiption of literwa- ture. I nevah wead that sort of thing, yer know—it’s quite out of my line. A lot of wetchedly-dwessed fellaws called cwitics were also there. Jack says they wite for newspapers about the dwama, wacing, etceterwa. How fellaws who have such horwible tailors can be authorwities on any subject is incompwehensi. ble to me. ‘Two othah balli—fellaws, after twying verwy hard, persuaded me to go to aw. Onc was called the Charwity—because, I believe, the gweenbacks waised go to welieve people who are widiculous enough not to pwovide them- selves with pwoper necessarwies of life. ‘The forweigners he ah—Germans, you know —have an arwangement called a Leadencranky —doosid queer names forweigners give things. It is a sort of masquerade, and a gweat many people make asses of themselves by wunning about in devilish odd dwesses. , There were gwoups of indeswibable things, in all the colors of the wainbow—but I weally can’t wack my bwain to say anything more about such foolerwy. s So hae Aw by the way, I he-ah that Wussia is going to give us some twouble—wather a bore. Jack says he'll pwobably have to join his aw wegi- ment aw. Tue maddest man in the United States is Mr. Able, of Carthage, Mo. He was sentenced to be hanged on Friday two weeks ago. On ‘Thursday evening he learned that influential friends had procured hinr a respite for thirty days, and had got all the evidence to acquit him on a new trial. He learned it just after he had made a full and free confession of the crime. It is interesting to know that Mr. Able will cease being mad on the 22nd of this month.