a telegram, felt it his duty to hasten to Chicago and there meet and mingle his tears and sympathies with the sorely afflicted family and friends of his late brother-in-law. He returned on Friday and reports that he left Mrs. Stone, her son Frederick and wife and daughter all sick with the grippe-so sick that none of them were able to accompany the remains of Mr. Stone to the cemetery and witness the burial at Rose Hill. true it is that As one by one the roses fade, So one by one our friends are laid How in the cold and silent grave, and whose turn may come next cannot be divined by any one. DEATH OF HON. J. B. GRINNELL. Editor Intelligencer: I notice the statement in the papers that Hon. J. B. Grinnell, the founder of Iowa College in the town which bears his name, in Powesheik county, this State, is dead. He died April 1, 1891. Mr. Grinnell was a native of Vermont, and long a personal friend of the undersigned. In early days he used to stop at my house and my wife took much pleasure in entertaining him. He was a man of great energy and force of character, and possessed the strictest integrity. When first visiting Iowa he rode on horseback westward from Davenport till, coming to the divide between the Iowa and Des Moines rivers, that elevated prairie so attracted his attention that he decided to purchase a liberal portion and build the town there which now bears his name. No drinking saloon was ever allowed to disgrace the place, but, on the contrary, Grinnell has always been known as a town of good morals. education and refinement. Mr. Grinnell's death will be greatly lamented by all who knew him. His age was seventy years. April 4, 1891. A. B. F. HILDRETH. FIDELITY. Never forsake a friend. When enemies gather around; when sickness falls upon the heart; when the world is dark and cheerless; is the time to try true friendship. The heart that has been touched with it will redouble its efforts when a friend is in trouble. Adversity will test true friendship and confirm it, Those who flee from the scenes of distress betray their hypocrisy, and prove that selfinterest only moves them. If you have a friend who loves you; who has studied your interest and happiness; be sure to sustain that friend in adversity. Let him feel and know that his past kindness is appreciated; that his love was not wasted upon you. Real fidelity may be rare; still it does exist in the hearts of many. Reader, have you not seen and felt its power?-Intelligencer, August 11, 1870. A NICE PRESENT. A few days since, we received, by railroad, a unique package of large dimensions, and, upon examination, found that it comprised a huge pair of antlers, taken from the skull of an enormous elk. A letter from the postoffice explained that they were a present from Maj. James Jackson, of the 30th Regiment, U. S. A., stationed at Fort Fred. Steele, Wyoming Territory. The horns are in perfect condition. They are mounted on a handsomely carved block of black walnut and varnished. They measure in their extreme length four feet and eight inches, and the distance across from one to the other, in the widest part, is three feet and six inches. The animal from which they were taken was captured in the Rocky Mountains and was one of the noblest of his species. Friend Jackson will please accept our most grateful thanks for so kindly remembering us. When we open a museum of rare curiosities those splendid antlers shall have the most conspicuous place.Intelligencer, September 8, 1870. NOTE.-Those elk-horns are now used for a hat-rack in the front hall of Mr. Hildreth's dwelling house. -ED. ANNOUNCEMENT. TO THE PATRONS OF THE INTELLIGENCER: Kind Friends: It becomes my duty to announce that I have sold the Intelligencer, subscription list and printing material to Messrs. Eugene B. Dyke and Dennison P. Rowell who will continue the printing and publishing business at the old stand as heretofore. These, my successors, are gentlemen of experience, character and ability. Being younger and more ambitious than I am, they may be expected to serve the public with greater acceptance than I have been able to do. Both gentlemen are Republicans, and the political character of the Intelligencer will remain unchanged. In retiring from a business which has cost me many years of arduous labor, both mentally and physically, to establish, I take the opportunity to return my thanks to all patrons for their kind and generous support, trusting that our reciprocal services have been mutually beneficial. I also bespeak for my successors the same liberal patronage which has heretofore been extented to me. A. B. F. HILDRETH. Charles City, October 1, 1870. WHISTLING GIRLS. "Whistling girls and crowing hens But, notwithstanding this old proverb, we are inclined to step forward and defend the whistling girls for their independence. Show us the girl who has the hardihood to whistle, in these days, when everything natural, even to the hair of your head, is at a discount, and we will show you a girl who can be depended upon; one who will not fail you in time of need; who will give you the hearty grasp; the cordial hand-shake; the warm genuine welcome; no tip of the glove, and a cold how-doyou-do; who can brave danger; look toil in the face without shrinking; weep with those who weep; laugh with those who laugh; as well as whistle with those who whistle. Such a girl can take the world as she finds it, rough and rugged as it is, and not go through life as if she were walking on eggs and afraid she may crack a shell.. She will deal in substance and not in shadow.— Intelligencer. From the Charles City Intelligencer. HOME. The word mother is a sacred word; aside from which is there a dearer, more magical word in the vocabulary of human speech than the word home? Is there one oftener in human thoughts and on human tongues? It is a beloved word, and at some period of life the proudest property and boast of every human soul. All who are born have one dearest spot for memory to point to, and that spot is home. On the land or on the sea, that cradle spot never leaves the soul's vision. Humble or high, palace or cot, it matters not,-it is home. The Switzer among the avalanches, the Arab of the desert, the Guacho of the pampas, idolize it alike. From the farthest points of wandering, and through all times and fates, all turn their feet, or at least their memories, toward home. Their sentiment is ever -"sweet, sweet home; Be it ever so humble, there's no place like home." Home, of itself, is an ever-living thought in the human heart. The tenderest associations linger there, the fondest visions, the brightest dreams. Father, mother, brother, sister, these are the figures grouped there, fadeless and imperishable! To be homeless,-oh, crown of wretchedness! Home, home, home,-possessed or remembered,yours are the ties that "Outlive time and cold mortality," and renew themselves in every sad and every joyous hour forever. You are the alpha and omega.beginning on earth, and ending,-oh, no, never ending. God grant,-in that "house not made with hands, eternal in the heavens." Home, home! fond, longing heart-cry of millions. Be the triple guard of reverence, love and duty around about thee. Profane, oh man or woman, whatever other shrine thou wilt, but spare the home, protect the home, love and cherish the home. It is the best, the holiest of refuge vouchsafed to mortals here below. Over the wide earth may God bless every human home; and when earth shall fail take us to that brighter and more beautiful home beyond the skies. H. |