BOYS and GIRLS
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THE LATEST THING IN NECK-TIES.
There are not many people who would recognize in the name Samuel Wheeler a person who did valuable service for our country in the war of the Revolution. It was he who made the famous chain that was stretched across the Hudson River to stop the British war-ships from ascending the stream. At the time General Washington was puzzled about defending the river.
"I wish I could get a chain made; but that is impossible," he said; and General Mifflin, overhearing the remark, exclaimed:
"Not so. We have a man in the army, a townsman of mine, one Wheeler, who can make you such a chain."
General Washington had Wheeler brought to him, and said:
"I want a chain to put across the North River to stop the British ships. Can you make it?"
"I can," replied Wheeler, "but I cannot do it here."
"Then," said Washington, "I will cheerfully give you dismission from the army to do so, for badly as we want such men as you, I cannot afford to keep you."
Mr. Wheeler made the chain, and its links were hauled across New Jersey, to be finally strung across the river, where it did good service. By building a fire under one of the links and then using a sledge-hammer and a chisel, it was ultimately cut apart.
The Colonel was a bluff old fellow, and all the officers liked him except for one thing, and that was his jealousy of the commanding officer of a neighboring post. He would grow irritable whenever this officer's name was mentioned, although he invariably brought the name up himself. One evening some of the mess determined to have some fun with the Colonel, and possibly put a stop to his pettishness.
"Colonel," said one of the officers, "it's queer, but you'd think Major D —— [the neighboring commander] had studied spelling. I got a letter from him to-day, and how do you think he spells 'here'?"
"He doesn't know much," growled the Colonel. "I suppose he spells it, h-e-a-r."
"No."
"Well, h-e-e-r."
"No, that's not it."
"H-i-e-r," ventured the Colonel once more.
"Guess again."
"Well, I'd have to be as stupid as he is to guess any other way of spelling it. Wait a moment. Does he spell it h-u-e-r?"
"No, Colonel."
"Well, then, how does the man spell it, anyhow?"
"Why, h-e-r-e, as it should be."
The Colonel rose with wrath in his eyes, and snapped out:
"Gentlemen, I'm too old for such joking," and then left the room and slammed the door after him.
Doubtless few know that the New York Journal of Commerce originated what is popularly known as a newspaper extra. When this occurred times were troublesome in Europe, and the great revolution of 1830 was approaching. Naturally America was anxious for early news, and all the newspapers of New York equipped small boats that cruised about the harbor, waylaying the large packet vessels arriving from abroad to get the tidings.
The Journal of Commerce conceived the plan of sending out a small schooner to intercept the packets two or three days ahead of their arrival. The originators of the plan were laughed at, and told that it would in the end ruin them. Results proved otherwise, however, and when the semaphoric telegraph announced their schooner in the offing, and later, coming up the bay, the crowd would gather around the office of the paper. They had to wait until the extra evening edition was ready, and then one of the partners would sometimes read the news aloud to hundreds of citizens, while thousands of copies were sold. This schooner was the first American news-boat of any size.
There is a small town in one of the Eastern States, not far from Boston, whose inhabitants take great pride in excelling every other town in their vicinity. They try every new invention, and if it has any sort of merit it is sure to be assigned to duty in some part of the place. Two portly gentlemen, one a sea-captain and the other a lawyer, both retired from active life, were the prime movers in the experiments and adoptions, and, naturally, in the course of time they failed to agree. Extreme jealousy then prevailed, and a bitter animosity sprang up between them.
Unfortunately these two gentlemen lived next door to each other—in fact, so close were their houses that the side walls almost adjoined. One very windy night the lawyer was reading a book in his study when a terrific crash upstairs startled him. Upon investigating he found that an unruly chimney had ruthlessly hurled itself through his roof, doing considerable damage. That in itself was a matter of great annoyance, but when he discovered it was the sea-captain's chimney that was responsible, his wrath knew no bounds. Hastening down to his library, he pulled out his law-books and hunted up similar cases, devising and scheming how he could secure satisfaction from the detestable captain. While thus engaged a note arrived from his enemy that read as follows,
"Sir,—If you don't return those bricks at once, I will put the matter in the hands of the law."