Thursday, December 15, 2011
Published in the Waukegan Gazette, Waukegan, Illinois on Saturday, September 29, 1877
Clever Dogs.
    Shot was a very intelligent and well behaved retriever, belonging to a gentleman at Doneaster. By kindness and patience he had been tought to do many clever tricks. On one occasion he earned a nice sum of money by performing at a bazaar for the benefit of the poor people in the infirmary.
    A terrier named Gaily also belonging to the same gentleman was once saved from drowning in Windermere Lake by Shot, and the two were ever after close friends. A little while ago Gaily died; his friend Shot sadly missed him, and refused his food, and at last died from exhaustion. It is a touching fact that a few nights before his death he was found lying beside Gaily’s grave. His master said that he had all the good qualities of a good man, and none of his bad ones.
    Mr. Wool tells of a dog that was sent daily to a butcher, with a note desiring him to supply it with a certain quantity of food. Noticing that it always received its meat in return for the writen paper, the artful animal one day thought it would obtain an extra meal, and picking up a piece of paper in the street, off he went with it to the usual purveyor. No doubt it was much surprised to find that one piece of paper was not as good as another.
    At a charitable institution in Paris, a certain number of applicants were provided with a dinner daily, on ringing a bell, the dinner being handed through a small opening, without the person who served the meal seeing the recipient. A watchful dog resolved to avail himself of the opportunity of obtaining a meal. One day, when the people had all gone, he seized the bell rope with his teeth, and rang a lusty peal. A good dinner was soon put through the opening, and it was speedily devoured. This trick was at last detected; but it excited so much admiration that the donors of the dinner gave the clever dog a regular allowance.
Wednesday, December 14, 2011
Published in the Waukegan Gazette, Waukegan, Illinois on Saturday, October 27, 1877
    Mile. D., a good and worthy lady, who lived in a country house in the neighborhood of Columbier, had a dog of special intelligence. He was of the race of poodles, which, everybody knows, is remarkably sagacious. When Mile. D., passed the evening with ladies of her acquaintance in Columbier as so often happened, the dog lighted her home by carrying two little lanterns, which were fastened on each end of a stick which he carried in his mouth. If she went to walk during the day the faithful dog carried her work-basket. On a beautiful Autumn morning, as Mile. D., was going by a vineyard on her way back from Columbier, a hare sprang out into the road. The dog set out after him, forsook his mistress and sowed a part of the contents of the work-basket at every turn in the field. When he came home with the empty basket Mile. D. scolded him well. Wholly ashamed, with drooping ears and tail, he did not wait for the end of the lecture, but scampered off. Scarcely half an hour passed when he came gayly back, bringing a pair of shears; then he hurried off again and brought the knitting-work; then a skein of thread, and at evening all the articles which the basket had contained, except the thimble, were together again.-From a Paris Letter.
Wednesday, December 14, 2011
Published in the Waukegan Gazette, Waukegan, Illinois on Saturday, October 20, 1877
    Two ostriches harnessed to a wagon can pull a load of 1,000 pounds, and all the care they need is a pail of water, two or three old bones, and a hod of brick.
Wednesday, December 14, 2011
Published in the Waukegan Gazette, Waukegan, Illinois on Saturday, October 6, 1877
    Probably one of the greatest problems of the age is the mule. Although volumes have been written on the mule yet the accident statistics show that he is as little understood as ever. How to mix kindness and firmness in the proper proportions and then apply the concoction successfully to an energetic mule is one of “those things no fellow can find out.” The mule is deceitful and desperately wicked. It knows no North, no South, no West, no East, in the rigid impartially with which it bestows no favors. In trying to solve the mule problem many very wise men have been baffled, and likewise knocked into a demoralized heap from which the mule stood. And yet how strange it is that after all these years of ineffectual research the true solution of this vexed question should be discovered by a small boy. This little fellow lives in Richmond, Va., and while playing near a mule was, by means of that animal’s method of rapid transit, suddenly landed in a neighboring field. When he recovered from the emotion caused by so unexpected an event, he managed to insinuate himself into the mule’s affections, taking care, however, always to keep at the correct end of the mule. Finally the innocent and unsuspicious quadruped was firmly tied to a tree, under whose shades were several hives of bees The mule brought disaster upon himself by kicking over a hive just by way of recreation. The combat that ensued was dreadful to behold. The boy is not quite certain whether the bees or the mule won the victory. He thinks that it was the mule, because when the owner came after the body, there was not a vestige of the hives to be seen, and the bees had all disappeared, while the remains of the mule still occupied the battle-field.-Detroit Free Press.
Wednesday, December 14, 2011
Published in the Waukegan Gazette, Waukegan, Illinois on Saturday, October 6, 1877
    Mr. Sam Gentry, living in the adjacent county of Stewart, has in his possession a purse made of the tanned skin of a rattlesnake, which he caught and killed under the following circumstances: In going along a wheat field he came across the snake lying at full length before him, manifesting no disposition to retreat or attack, and apparantly waiting for something to turn up. Mr. Gentry, who is a practical mesmerist, concluded to try his powers upon the dangerous reptile before him, reasoning that if a snake can magnatize a bird, why cannot a man, endowed with greater mesmeric power, put a snake under his power and will? Taking his position at the side of the dangerous but quiet subject, he made quick undulatory passes with both hands from the head to the tail, and in a few moments had the satisfaction of seeing the snake completely within his power, charmed, magnetized, mesmerized which it may properly be called. Placing one of his hands in front of his subject, it immedlately crawled on his arm, then over his nack to the left, Gentry in the mean time continuing his mesmeric passes. He then carried the rattlesnake home on his arm, when under his directions, one of his sons opened his mouth and unfolded his fangs, the snake quietly submitting to the novel operation. After fully satisfying himself and a number of his neighbors, who were present and witnessed the affair, of the truth of his theory, he cast the snake to the ground, killed it, stripped off the skin, tanned it and made himself a purse, which he has carried about his person ever since.-Trigg County Democrat.
Wednesday, December 14, 2011
Published in the Waukegan Gazette, Waukegan, Illinois on Saturday, September 29, 1877
    A swallow’s nest, built in the west corner of a window facing the north, was so much softened by the rain beating against it, that it was rendered unfit to support the superincumbent load of pretty, full grown sparrows. During a storm the nest fell into the lower corner of the window, leaving the young brood exposed to all the fury of the blast. To save the little creatures from an untimely death, the owner of the house benevolently caused a covering to be thrown over them till the severity of the storm was past. No sooner had it subsided, than the sages of the colony assembled, fluttering round the window and hovering over the temporary covering of the falling nest. As soon as the careful anxiety was observed, the covering was removed, and the utmost joy evinced by the group on finding the young ones alive and unhurt. After feeding them, the members of this assembled community, arranging themselves into working order, each division taking its appropriate station, commenced instantly to work; and before nightfall they had jointly completed an arched canopy over the young brood in the corner where they lay, and securely covered them against a succeeding blast. Calculating the time occupied by them in performing this piece of architecture, it appeared evident that the young must have parished from cold and hunger before any single pair could have executed half the job.
Published in the Waukegan Gazette, Waukegan, Illinois on Saturday, March 25, 1876
    A story comes from Fairfield, Herkimer County, N. Y., of a music-loving dove. It is said that when the piano is played in the house of the dove’s owner, it will fly into the house and perch on the head of the performer, where it will remain until the piece is played, when it will jump upon the keyboard of the instrument and hop about the keys, thus producing sounds it seems to enjoy. Friends of the family frequently visit the house to witness the bird’s strange antics.
Published in the Waukegan Gazette, Waukegan, Illinois on Saturday, April 15, 1876
    There are few persons familar with Waukegan but will remember the little sorrel horse so long owned by Geo. Kirk, Esq., and all of these will regret to learn that he is dead. The horse was purchased by Mr. kirk, from Mr. Locke, of Libertyville, in 1856, and was then four years old. For a long time he was used as a family horse by John A. Mills, then a partner of Mr. Kirk. Afterward he was put at work in the lumber yard, and in delivering lumber about town, in which capacity he has served faithfully up to last Saturday night. On Sunday, while standing in the stable, he was kicked by another horse and had a leg broken, making it necessary to dispatch him by shooting. The little pony was buried in the yard adjoining the stable, and it is no discredit to the family in which he has so long been a pet, to say that not a few tears were shed over his untimely demise.
Published in the Waukegan Gazette, Waukegan, Illinois on Saturday, June 10, 1876
    Walter Morse, of the town of Ela, more generally and favorably known as “Dad” Morse, nearly ninety years of age, was attacked by an infuriated bull [one of his own pet stock], and was roughly handled and terribly bruised. He was thrown in the air and struck on his head, and tumbled and jostled by the maddened beast, made more enragedd by the beating and treatment he received from a lad present. The animal started for the boy, but a fence suddenly came between. The old gentleman knew nothing of the accident for two days. His face and head would not be recognized as human in color or shape. His body, limbs and hands were badly bruised, but not gored. Symptoms are favorable that he will rally from his injuries, but probably never fully recover. It took six men to control or capture the quadruped with the use of pitchforks and lassoes. Shooting would have been in order if the executive committee could have obtained the weapons. The old settler is anxious to sell some of his cattle. Terms cheap and payments easy. Goods not delivered.
Published in the Waukegan Gazette, Waukegan, Illinois on Saturday, June 17, 1876
    Arthur Regan, eight years old, of Karns City, rode a horse into a creek of water. The horse stepped into a deep hole, when the boy fell off and would have been drowned had not the animal seized him by the back and carried him to the bank. The mark of the horse’s teeth are yet to be seen in the boy’s flesh.