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About The Wickes Pioneer (Wickes, Mont.) 1895-1896 | View This Issue
The Wickes Pioneer (Wickes, Mont.), 16 Nov. 1895, located at <http://montananewspapers.org/lccn/sn85053310/1895-11-16/ed-1/seq-6/>, image provided by MONTANA NEWSPAPERS, Montana Historical Society, Helena, Montana.
1 promptly as he collects. The pottmas- ter or hie assistant hands the letter or paper to Mr. Scott, giving the name to which it Is directed, and the old blind letter carrier without the timid hesita- tion arranges the letters and papers In the order In which he desires to deliver t hem. Iternardleion Is a small village and, of course. In the winter the roads are not cleared of snow early in - the morning. This makes 111110 differenre to Mr. Scott except that he takes a little more time to cover his route. Every day he covers several miles of territory and he 'rarely meeem a mistake. lie is a bache- lor. lives in a comfortable house which he owns and finds time . to do all his his way about the cities. He intends this fall to visit Europe .and to travel quite extensively in Great Britain? As he cannot induce ,dals wife to go *Rh him. he will go alone. d While Mr. Davenport says that he will go for pleasure : . th- ere is a shrewd suspicion that he goes for the purpose of studying .the woo: maiket of Great Britain., This has a vital interest for him, for very frequently he is the owner of several hundred thousand pounds of wool. Of course, he is unable to read, but every day his wife or chil- dren read to him the trade papers, and in this way heskeeps in touch with the markets of the world. Mr. DVenport goes anywhere alone. Not infrequently he is seen leading his horse along a country road or the streets of a village of 7,000 people, and driving 11 drove of cattle to a eiaughter house. Perhaps he has an assistant in the shape of a boy, but occasionally he has only the help of a shepherd dog. Unlike many blind men, he does not en carry a cane. He hes almost con- stant use for his hands. Ile is equally at home in a pasture or in the streets of a city. TELLS THEIR DENOMINATION. When visiting a city where he is not familiar with the streets Mr. Daven- port hires a carriage and tells the driv- er to take him to such places as he de - fires to visit. He handles large slims of money and tells the tioneminations of the various bills. Of course with silve. or gold he has no trouble. Ills memory la remarkable and ex- tettds to the voices of men and women.. If yea should meet him today and con- verse with Salm for, a few minutes he would know you instantly if he met you a year later. He takes a keen interest In politics and all the affairs of the werld, is a good del.. .er, an in his town he largely directs the manage- ment of affairs. Mr. Davenport is now nearly 60 years old, and is reputed to have gained a competency of $60.000 solely by his own efforts. The seconi of the three men is Ar- nold Scott of Bernardieton. He. too, is nearly 60 year.: old. and his blindness came to him as the result of a prema- ture explosion mAny years ago, on a Fourth of July. For many years he has been totally blind. Ala calling lit that of a letter carrier, wad he serves the penple of Bernardston very efficiently and] faithfully. Every mornInF through. LIGHT FROM HEAtEN. THREE MASSACHUnorTS BLIND MEN WHO ENJOY l eIFE. Dna. Is a Letter Carrier Wittvon W. Davenport Ilav tniassed 1.ortrune and C. E. Hawke,. I. Poet and Lecturer and Ball Crank. (Special Correspondence.) HIS is a story of the lives of three leen who are total- , k blind. It proves that blindness is pot a barrier to ' tuccess or happi- j ,, S. It shOws that -see. I three of the men , sappy in their call- `• te ire successful and diresesee, ngs, tied that with one of the three there has come a com- pensation for the great misfortune of losing his sight. He literally sees with his imagination. He sees beauties that are not visible to those having sight. Watson W. Dpvenport, one of the three, resides in Leyden, one of the lit- tle hill towns of western Massachu- setts. He is easily the leading man of the town. Many years agoehe became totally blind. With most men this would have been a berrier to active and successful work. This is not the case with Mr. Davenport. -- cooking, housework and other domes- tic work. e He finds his amusement in fishing and in music. If at any time in the night he is wakeful and does not sleep easily he goes into the garden and gets a mess of angleworms anti then goes to Pall river end catches a string of MM. The third of these three men Is Clar- ence E. Hawkes of Hadley. lie is only 23 years old, and for ten years he has been totally blind. The story of his life is remarkable for what he has accom- plished under the most discouraging circumstances. When 9 years old be Met with an accicleat which after much - pain and several surgical operations cost him his left leg. When 13 years old, while hunting in a forest with a companion, the latter discharged his gun in such a way that young Hawkes received a charge of bird shot direotly in the face, and as a consequence some months afteiehe became totally blind. And yet since that time, notwith- standing his physical weakness, which is great, he has taken a four years' course at the Perkins institute, in South Boston\. for the blind; he has studied oratory and became a proficient piano tuner, only to be . compelled to give tip that calling because of a lack of strength. . He goes all over the country without a companion, keenly enjoys a game of baseball, and while attending a game not only keeps the score but also the technical points down nearlas fine as a professional scorer. He pays chess ii ith much skill, is a successful angler d is able to earn in the vicinity of $1,000 a year. This he does by giving lectures all over the country and by his poetry. He has had great success in securing the publication of hie verses and In getting pay for them. His poetical con- tributions have been accepted by a large number of distinguished publica- tions. . ..._ Mr. Hawkes Is a native of Goshen, a little town perched high among the hills of Hampshire county. - t joins Curamington, the native town of the poet Bryant. Mr. Hawkes is thankful that he did not lose his sight mill he was sufficiently old to retain the mem- ory of the beaudee of nature. These membries come to him now very viv- idly, and the waving grass, tee blue sky and the towering hills are very dear to him. Mr. Hati l ites says that he never ex- periences a sense of danger in wander- ing about either the city or the coun-, C. E. HAWKE'S. • try. In the city he uses surface cars He, as a farmer, a drover and a pur- quite frequently. Standing on the side- chaserwalk he aalts a bystander to tell him of wool. IT: the last two named callings he is widely known. He makes when the right car approaches. He ex - nothing of visitiqg Hostel l er New Ydrk periences a delight, in walking over entirely alone on a business trip, and buildings while they are in the process finds no difficulty whatever in finding of constimeticia. Mr. Hawkes thinks that the senses of a blind person become kneener than those of persons who have their sighs. He says that when walking he re•aa: runs into any object. If a tree or any- thing else is.in .h.1 . 0 path he is awaie of it. The air seems more dense. While riding In a railroad train, if the tele- graph poles are near'the track and the car window is open Mr. Hawkes is con- fident that he can count -fee number - passed by the train. e • Thia fine sense aids him in enjoying a ball game. The calling by the um- pire of the balls and strikes of course aids him. but he can tell from the so . und whether the batter has bunted, sent up a fly ball or a daisy cutter into the field. When the people begin to move around him he knows perfectly well that a foul has been struck and is ap- proaching his vicinity, but he is also aware that if he keeps still there is lit- tle danger of being hit. Sir. Hawked has made something of .'e e • , , m ee: , 1 , 1.24 1 Ia. • ; v. e•s4 *a \ - - , •de etee s ee ceri .•••• , A OAP d laih th r CLARENCE HAWKES* HOME. a study of anatomy. When he grasps your hand he is mentally taking your photograph, and the camera in hie hand is aided by one's voice, and so a minute liter, you should ask him. you would be surprised to find that he will tell yota nearly accurately your height and weight and many other of your characteristics. In his lectures about the country he Is in a constant school. It is a school in the broad sense of lite word. He studies there not only the motives and moods of those he meets, hut also the quaint- ness and dialects of the people. This fall he hopes to publish his first vol- time. It will contain about 300 of hi; out the year Mr. Scott makes ukPiwinl• rounds and collects the mail and tie livers II at the postoffiee. An Insulting Inquiry. After each of the arrivals of import- I \I've been inmitited,\ Raid Meander - ant malls he is on head to deliver as Mg Mike, \I never %VAR' so down -trod an' humiliated in my life.\ \What's happened?\ inquired Plod. ding Pete, anxiously. \I've beeen offered work.\ \Cheer tip. Wumm things bee hap- pened.\ \Nope. Never. 'Twes a job in a soap factory.** A Memorial to tier Pot. TAMP!' Ims on one of her roadsides a large urn, which Is kep: constantly iiiird with fresh flowers at the expense of a wealthy lady ivho resides in the vicinity.as a memorial to her pet poodle, Which was killed by the cars at that point PUPIL OF MACREADY. EXPERIENCE OF HENRY HOWE. THE OLDEST ACTOR. - an a Ottaker Until Kean's Tiros—Was I 'ASCIIa led by the Trag ed Ian's Richard III. and Became an Actor — Player at I 'Kitty- three. E told me he was born on March 31, 1812. That, in view of his undimmed eye, his youthful color and his springy step, was surprising enough but I had gone to see the oldest play- ing actor in. the world and was pre- pared to be surprised. You may see Henry Howe on the stage with Sir liner) . Irving and his company. Let me tell you what manner of man the pro- tege of Macready is off the boards and give you half an hour's chat with him. To begin with, he is one whom you would turn about to look at if you passed him on the street—he says \road\—for he looks distinguished. His tigure Is graceful still, his face well nodeleti, his cheeks full and ruddy. his ayes merry and brown, his hair abun- dant and white, his %mice cheery, his wit keen. Hige l looked at me Over a glass of Scotch whisky and water, and talked as only a man can talk who has been fifty-six years an actor, and who has portrayed every male character seen at I the Haymarket. London, for forty yeaas and nine months. \You won't have any?\ he said, with a nod at the Scotch. \Well. I will then. If I hadn't (with a 'aught I wouldn't be here at eighty-three. Born? Born half an hoer before midnight on the last day of March, 1812. Half an hour Imre I'd have been an April fool all my fife. \Now I will tell you how I became an actor, if you think it will interest any- one. I was a Quaker among Quakers. father lived in Norwich and oper- ated a stage line between that place and London. Edmund Kean played some- times in Richmond. \Well Quaker as I was. I went into the theater one night when Kean was playing 'Richard I was fascinated. Then and there I determined to become an actor. I calleffi upon him. but only after three applications wasI able to see hint personally. I found him sit- ting before an untouched breakfast, surrounded by a great number of dogs. His eye caught my Quaker dress at once. he exclaimed. 'you're a Quaker!' \I said I was, anti lie exclaimed again: 'Why. Coekey. John 1.4S. here tells me you wish to become an actor.' I was rather cheeky then anti said I did. \ 'Why. Cockeye* he went on- he saw IVEIR cheeky—'this will never do, you know. Your friends will turn their parks upon you anA you'll tw . end ruined and get into no end of de, bit'. Do sour father and mother ked.,.. about it?' \I told him they didn't and I heed they wouidn't. \ 'Why, Cockeye he said. 'you really mustn't. I'll have to talk to tout,' lie wae e about going to an Island in the Thames anti sekedi me If I would ac- company him. I W R delighted There was ri little pnblid homes there and I knew the When she saw mis coming. the Quakci and the actor, the' was greatly aatoniehed. Well, he talked to MP AR ii father semi(' mrareeie hate done, telked to me of religion an impressive eermon And In Viae find he peranadiedi to give up my idea. I was two or the -,'r and twentt, then. • oh. yes, I eaa already married. I married at nineteen That's why the Quakers disowned me I shall never forget the day when the banker and the broker came to (1:sown me on behalf of the meeting—It was for marrying and- A PURITAN SUNDAY. paytng a clergyman. \ 'I'll live to see the last Quaker stuffed and placed In the British Mu- No scum as a curiosity,' I said to the spokesman. 'Henry,' he said, 'I didn't come here to be insulted.' \In those days se amateur would often hire a theater, and I went to beau - one of them—Ottway, 1 think. He was really very bad and I hissed him. A gentleman with spectacles who sat near me addressed 'I beg your pardon,* he said; *I have o right to address you but will you oblige nee by not hissing that gentleman? Ile is a friend of , Oh, very well,' I said. 'I hissed him because I thought he was very bad, but if he is a friend of yours I shall not hiss again.' Now, the gentleman in spectacles was an amateur actor him- self, and our acquaintance, so oddly be- gun, was continued. In fact, I had him to breakfast next morning, and he found out that I wished to act. \ 'Well.' he saideif you feel that way about it I can give you Antonio in the \Merchant of Venice,\ but you'll have to pay half a guinea for it.' And I did. The Idler referred to me as * . a. staid young gentlemen' and said I delivered the speeches of Antonio 'very credit- ably.' That settled it. I began at the Victoria Theater, and ever since for fifty-six years I have been an actor. I have been under only seven managers, Sir Henry Irving being the seventh. I shall never play under another. I havo played with all the leading men. I wag with Macready until he gave it up: Then I went to the Haymarket. I was rather a protege 'of Macready. Do yov 7.7717 .777_ know, I think he liked me because I had been a Quaker. I went to school with John Brigpt. I was in the original cast in 'The Lady of Lyons' and in Itichelitite when they were first done In England. WALKING TO ATLANTA. Frank .1. Skelton Starts Without Clothe on a Wager. Frank J. Skelton of Chicago ha' started for the Aalanta exposition with out other clothing than short trunkt to gird his loins, and is to walk the 655 miles in thirty days. He is not to beg, must register at every telegraph sta- tion and at the Constitution office in Atlanta. if he reaches his southern des- tination. He claims to have walked from New York to San Francisco in eighty-one data'. breaking the record Fll ANK .1 SKELTON by thirty-nine days, and incidentally diming his trip walked 15() miles hi thirty hours, breaking that record t wenty-five miles. lit -lime he walked from Chicago to New °tit v - four days. ',reeking the red dee H i % e e‘ end during that trip twice walked 120 miles in twenty-four home. breaking the rr:cord twenty miles Ile decieree he dein walk a mile heel lap i n ; eel, and t1:1'. '' ilked around the world in eighteen months. 'if he is Successful . Kane him manager. start it aroundt tie world to see if it can b e dont in fifteen months. TRAVEL. COOKING, KISSING OR HOUSEWORK. Fined for Not Going to,Shureie- Arbi- trary Blue Laws Not Greatly Unlike Those In New York—Under Theodore Roosevelt. — HE attempt to en- force the sumptua ary laws in New York has given US a taste of the old Puritan spirit and recalled in some de- gree to a cosmopoli- tan community the \blue laws\ of an- other age and con- dition. The laws which answer to that name arose in different places out of different circumstances, and the American pub- lic owe to the Rev. Samuel Peters the popular notion of such a code. His so-caled \blue laws of Connectieur have been shoWn to be false, ironical and malignant. But it must be con- fessed he caught the spirit of early Connecticut when he ernete: \No one shall travel, cook victuals, make beds, sweep house or shave on the Sabbath day. \No woman shall kiss her child on the Sabbath. \No one shall ride on the Sabbath day or walk in his garden, or elsewhere. except reverently to and from meeting.\ Alice Morse Earle has taken the trouble to go through the old records of New England, and she has presented a curious array of commitments and punishments for violations of the Sab- bath. Thus: \In Newbury in 1646 Aquila Chase and his wife were presented and fined for gathering peat in the garden on ellnday. \In Wareharn William Estes was fined ten shillings for raking hay on he Sabbath, and aDunstablesoldier was fined forty shillings for putting a piece of old 'hat in his shoe to protect his foot an the Sabbath. \Captain Kendle, or lhoston, sat for two hours in the stocks in 1666 for kiss- ing his wife 'publicquelya \ In the New Haven code of laws s it was ordered that profanation of the Lord's Day shall be punished by fine, and if proudly and with a high hand imprisonment or corporal punishment, against the authority of God—with dee.th. To drive a horse unseemly even fro.n church was punishable, and there is a record of a Maine man being rebuked and fined for running on the Lord's Day to save a man from drowning, and as late as the year 1831 a lady was ar- rested in Lebanon, Conn., within sight of her father's house, for unnecessary travel on the Sabbath. Ttie Columbian Sentinel of Decembeie 1789, has a paragraph which . says that \The President (Washington) . on his re- turn to New York from his late tour through Connecticut, haying missed hie way on Saturday, was obliged to ride a few miles on the Sabbath morning in order to gain the town at which he was to attend divine service. Before be ar- rived he was met by the 'Tything man.' who commanded him to stop and de- manded the occasion of his riding. Nor would he let him proceed until he had promised to go no further than the town.\ As late as 1774 the first church of Roxbury fined non -attendants at public worship. In 1651 Thomas Scott was fined ten shillings for being absent, \unless he have learned Mr. Norton's catechism by the next cwt.\ In 1760 the Legislature of Massachusetts passed a law that \any person able of body who shall absent themselves from pub - lick worship on the Lord's Day shall pay ten shillings fine.\ In 1647 William Blagdien, who lived in New Haven, was brought up (or ab- sence from meeting. He pleaded that he had fallen into the water late On Saterday, could light no fire on Sunday to dry his clothes, and so had lain in bed to keep warm while his ofily suit was drying. But in spite of this rea- sonable exnuse he was found guilty of 3lothfulneiui and sentenced to be pub- licly whipped. Editn- Met -alto no .a... I n. James F Met. It' , i‘clitor nf Life, arrived] in t'n, city after a four months* tour in Ian, says the New York Telegram. Mr Metcalfe left New York in May and proceeded to Yokohama by way of San Francisco, going thence to Nagasaki, Moto and Nikko, with many excursions by the way; and returning to New 1 irk through Vancouver. Mr Metcalfe le not, favorably impressed by Japan: anti considering matters from the point of view of an experienced journeliet. he says that more news may be . ohtalned of what is going on there throtigh e icon- don, Berlin and St. Petersburg than (lin he had in the coentry itself. Fence the only information that is dieseminat- ed Is through the diplomats of the vari- ous European elates. Nevertheleita, from observations he !IAA 11111(10 1 throughont Japan. Mr. Metcalfe bea lieves that the country Is to be the' scene of important events. Mirth iTug the rest of the world within the next year or two, significant of which is the virrunnstance that the p rson if the Rtn‘mitan ambassn(lOr Is gunriiPd Mere sneredit than that of an% per -on in the m'uduldIt c' , aiditie from the mikado CURE FOR WILD OATS. In One Case It Wa• a Success :Did, Possibly Might Re So in others. From the Washington Star: Tile Star man was talking to an acquaintance the other day, ellen a young fellow, who has blown in the bulk of a fortune on himself, and is liable to finish it before many, moons, passed 4y, just, a little too heavily loaded to be comfortable. \See that young chap?\ said the man. \Yes and it's a pity about him, too. Nice fellow with f ood abilities, if he teould only use them as he should.\ \Very true, and he isn't too old to be cured, if he went about it right.\ \If you've got a cure for that sort of thing, and will get it patented, you wiU be a millionaire before the year is out.\ \I can't say I've got a cure, but I know of one now in course of experiment.\ He didn't go right ahead, and the Star man nudged him with a question. \What is it, ared where is it?\ he asked. • \Well I needn't tell you just that, but I'll tell you what it is. I happen to know a rich man with a relative who is just such another chap as the one,we have been talking about, only more so. That is to say, he was that kind, but he isn't now. He was quick and bright. and had a good nose for business, but he would spend money and make no entail to acquire it. He had about $50,000 left to him when he was 21. and he went through with it like a train through a tunnel, and then fell back on,his uncle. or step -uncle rather, and the old mau had him on his hands, lie became ut- terly worthless and was drutek and in trouble all the time. One day, however, he had a sudden attack of common sense, and he braced up and stayed that way for a month. \Then he went to his uncle and male a proposition to him. This proposition was to the effect that if the old gentle- man would take an Insurance policy co his life for $30,000, and let him have $10,000 on it to' go into business with he would guarantee to pay the $10.000 back with the premium, anti assume the pol- icy himself within five years. IT he failed he would commit suicide and the old man would make $20,000. less the premiums, which, he thought. was a fair percentage on the investment. It looked to the uncle something like murder, butt he thought there was no other way to cure him, so he took the young man up, and the experiment has now been in operation two years. and up to this time the young fellow has been as ertraight as a string, and is $7.000 to the good, which he has set aside for emergencies, and is going ahead making just as much more as be can. The old man is so pleased about it that I don't believe he will ask the boy—he's nearly 30—to fulfill the contract at the end of five years, in case he shouldn't have the full amount in his, clothes just at that time.\ \Where did you pay the young man lived?\ inquired the Star man. \I didn't say Washington,\ he replied. De'14 ate Silt Cr ' (hi volt have ma. hums fat making these Saratoga chips , \ Walter \No. Th' fuust asdiletatit cook shaves 'em off with er knife.\ \I don't *e hotx lir:gets them so mil form)s -. thin \ •-• \ne useter he deh roam* beef carver lir er board in' bowie.\ No More \Bad Men. \In the evolution of modern civiliza- tion, the bad man, namely,\ the des- perado and tough. who gloats over kill- ing his fellow man, disappears,\ said Col. F. B. Jenkins, of California. \A few years ago we heard a great deal of characters like Sam Bass, Jesse James, Ben Thompson and Relte Bur- rows, but today there is not in the United States a single individual with a national reputation for wickedness and dare -deviltry such as any of these acquired. There are a few men left who have iecords for desperate courage and nerve in trying emergencies, men of the Bat Masterson order. but they can be counted on the fingers of ono hand. Masterson never fleet - ea as a bandit or reckless taker of human life. He is a peaceable man, anti if left alone will harm no one. In Denver and all over the West and South he has 'a host of.friends. The day of the dleeperado is ended. and monstrosities like Thomp- son, who boasted. when in hie (ups of the number of victims he had slain, will henceforth cease to afflict human. Ity.\— Waehington Post, WOMEN OF NOTE. Mary Brandon. of Texas, is a black- smith and wheelwright. Worth once told Mrs. Langtry that the Americana were the best dressed women in the world. alre. Margeret 'Custer Celhoun, Gen- eral ('esters daughter, read a poem at the Atlanta Fair on Bine and Gray Day. The most enthusiastic- women horti- culturist in Europe is Miss Alice Roths- child. whose colleetion of roses alone is said to be worth $50,000. Tee, energetic young women are em- pinved hy Unsle sam mu Itrookeyn as deputy collectors of anternal revenue They are Miss Lucie Ball ntel Miss Mabel Butler. and their narnee were the fleet of their sex to he entered on the government pay rolls as deputy col- ktitors of internal revenues. SMILES BETWEEN SERMON?... \Billeem is a sort of Jack -of - all (lee; he ran do anything\ Joax: \Y or anybody.\—Philadielphla Ree- ord. Question. --\And you will never forget nu , '\ asked the summer resort girl of her lover, the dry goods clerk. \Neter.\ he Raid absently; 'is there anything more today?\ - -Detrolt Free Preece 'So Mate' has a title at last,\ said the dear girl in pink. \Yes. bin it's a tterond- hand one •• revile.) the icar girl in blue \Flow so\ - The nobleman the mart wit WA , : a widlower.\ -- Chicago Poet \win pni think of inr , when I am gone?\ asked Mr 1.incer aentimentally. RS the handle of the c Ind k moved towerdl 12. - Certainly. - repiled Miss laittiah. \how soon shall I have an opportunity ,to begin!\ Detroit Free Frees. We e •I 4 4;4i WA uhic Crops Poe Nib diei milli s e tr l o ev rE , fight Bag say, been date then an a as a Alal exte l a : ss thse i t por In trib WO r the sta the an ill xi not hot tio lifi tho era cre ext wh gma up th is Its th Fe, be ha fe an eh te th gi In do In 41 of iii lir in (1( a (1 in In it (I cc (1 a ti a •
