[short untitled miscellaneous items]
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In a Sandwich Island paper just received by mail, I learn that some gentlemen of taste and enterprise, and also of Keokuk, Iowa, have named a fast young colt for me. Verily, one does have to go away from home to learn news. The cannibal paper adds that the colt has already trotted his mile, of his own accord, in 2:17 1-2. He was probably going to dinner at the time. The idea of naming anything that is fast after me -- except an anchor or something of that kind -- is a perfect inspiration of humor. If this poor colt could see me trot around the course one, he would laugh some of his teeth out -- he would indeed, if he had time to wait till I finished the trip. I have seen slower people than I am -- and more deliberate people than I am -- and even quieter, and more listless, and lazier people than I am. But they were dead.
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And by that Sandwich Island paper ("Commercial Advertiser") I also learned that H. M. Whitney, its able editor and proprietor for sixteen years, was just retiring from business, having sold out to younger men. I take this opportunity of thanking the disappearing veteran for courtesies done and information afforded me in bygone days. Mr. Whitney is one of the fairest-minded and best-hearted cannibals I ever knew, if I do say it myself. There is not a stain upon his name, and never has been. And he is the best judge of a human being I ever saw go through a market. Many a time I have seen natives try to palm off part of an old person on him for the fragment of a youth, but I never saw it succeed. Ah, no, there was no deceiving H. M. Whitney. He could tell the very family a roast came from, if he had ever tried the family before. I remember his arresting my hand once and saying, "Let that alone -- it's from one of those Hulahulas -- a very low family -- and tough." I cannot think of Whitney without my mouth watering. We used to eat a great many people in those halcyon days, which shall come again, alas! nevermore. We lived on the fat of the land. And I will say this for Henry Whitney -- he never thought less of his friend after examining into him, and he was always sorry when his enemy was gone.
Most of the above may fairly and justly rank as nonsense, but my respect and regard for Mr. Whitney are genuine.
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My old friend is married again -- as I learn from the following notice cut by a correspondent from a Cincinnati paper last May -- rather old news, but it a good scattering shot, and cannot fail to "fetch" some ignorant interested body somewhere, considering the number of brides:
MARRIED
YOUNG -- MARTIN -- PENDERGAST -- JENICKSON -- CLEVELAND -- MARTIN. -- In Salt Lake City, Utah, on the 16th ult., in the presence of the Saints, Elder Brigham Young to Mrs. J. R. Martin, Miss L. M. Pendergast, Mrs. R. M. Jenickson, Miss Susie P. Cleveland, and Miss Emily P. Martin, all of county of Berks, England.
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The following is genuine, and was cut from the regular advertising columns of a great daily newspaper in a certain city. How many of my little Sunday-school friends can guess the city? Do not all speak at once -- or if you do, do not put the emphasis strong on the second syllable, because it would not be nice for little boys and girls to disturb the continent. Though people who want divorces are not always the continent. Read:
WANTED -- Divorces legally obtained without publicity, and at small expense. No fee unless decree is obtained. Address P. O. Box 1,037. This is the P. O. Box advertised for the past six years, and the owner has obtained 466 divorces during that time.
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"M." (Springfield, O.) encloses for the Memoranda an inscription copied verbatim from a tombstone in Mount Wood Cemetery, Wheeling, erected to the memory of four little children who died within a few weeks of each other. (S. J., of Wheeling, also sends a copy of the same.) The verses seem to represent a conversation between the parents and the departed:
Children dear, what made you go
Far away, &c.
And leave us in our grief below,
Far way, &c.
You could not find a better home,
Nor better friends where e'er you roam,
Since you have left your earthly dome,
Far way, &c.
A heavenly message came for we,
All is well, &c.
To go and join that glorious glee,
All is well, &c.
We are members of that band,
On a holy pavement we do stand,
With a golden trumpet in hour hands,
All is well, &c.
Ye are strangers in that sphere,
Children dear, &c.
You have no friends that you know there
Children dear, &c.
We wish, we wish we could be see
That heavenly palace where you be,
And bring you back to live with we,
Children dear, &c.
Dear parents weep for us no more,
All is well, &c.
We landed safe on Canaan's shore,
All is well, &c.
Ah! friends we have, we are well known
With saints and angels round the throne,
And Jesus claims us as his own.
All is well, &c.
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"Quizquiz" hurls me this, under New York postmark: "I met last night on the Podunk Railroad an individual whose characteristics are best indicated by what follows:
"I handed him THE GALAXY, directing his attention to your map of Paris. He read your explanations through deliberately, and when he came to that part where you advised standing on the hear or the use of a looking glass in order to see it properly, he turned to a careful consideration of the map. In a few moments a bright idea struck him. Holding the sheet up to a light, he looked through the reverse side and exclaimed: 'Why, all that ain't necessary, after all! All you've got to do is to look at it the wrong way, and it makes it all right!' He read the remained of your explanation, including certificates, and then returned to the profound study of the map. After a while he burst out:
" 'Why, here's a thing that's wrong, any how! You can't get Omaha on the west and Jersey City on the east. They're both west. I don't care who says it's right, I say it ain't!'
"I mildly suggested that Jersey City and Omaha were a long way apart, and probably the longitude had something to do with it; for it was impossible to suppose such military critics as General Grant and General Sherman would not have detected the blunder if it were one.
"He pondered some time. 'Ah!' he said finally, 'it must be the longitude, for you see if you go around the world one way you might get Omaha on the west; while if you went round for Jersey City the other way, you'd get that on the east. I see it; it's the longitude does it.' "
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The above mention of my map of Paris calls to mind that that work of art is appreciated among the learned. It is duly advertised that whoever sends a club of one hundred subscribers to the Yale College "Courant" -- together with the necessary four hundred dollars -- will receive as a prize a copy of my map! I am almost tempted to go canvassing myself.
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All my soul is in Art lately, since I have been taking lessons in drawing and painting. I have drawn, and am now engraving, an elegant portrait of King William of Prussia, as a companion to the customary GALAXY portraits, and to complete the set. This work of Art, with accompanying remarks, will appear in the January number of this magazine.
