The Evening Light

EDITORIAL PARAGRAPHS.
In this age of electricity the world is like an open book.
Mr. Thompson, the author of "Major Jones' Courtship," died on the 24th instant.
The republicans of Dallas have had a meeting and endorsed a municipal ticket.
What has become of the North Pole, Col. Duncan, if you are correct in your last lamentation?
The only sign we discover of the latter day is the number of false prophets that abound. B. D. make a note.
Col. Blanton Duncan dished up in the Sunday's Express his usual assortment of disasters. The truth is, Col. D. is very green, or imagines our community is.
Col. Blanton Duncan slipped up last year in his prophesy about a famine -and if the Lord is willing he will slip up again this year.
The Mississippi overflows every year-some seasons it is worse than others; but this ever-recurring misfortune is made the text for Col. Blanton Duncan's last chapter on human misery.
The Western Texan is the name of a very neat weekly published at Junction City, Kendall county, by Mr. J. F. Lewis. Mr L., in his salutatory, says he chooses to be a democrat, as a choice between evils. but he occupies a very broad and liberal platform-as a frontier organ should.
The saloon keepers up in Indiana are in the field as an organized clan, agitating the sublime cause of rum. They recognize the platform of the democratic party as having an appropriate open place for their plank and are holding meetings to repair it accordingly, and pledging themselves to its support. Barkis seems willing. But as there are thousands of democrats in the state who are more in earnest on prohibition than on political issues, the obnoxious element will be likely to do damaging work in the outcome of that party. Thus the saloon proprietors, with the old animus of the slave driver, are apt, in Indiana, to precipitate its large and respectable fraternity of drunkards and bibbers of refined and nectarine poisons, upon involuntary manumission. Let us hope so.
The Czar sent a congratulatory telegram to William of Germany on the 22nd, the anniversary of the birthday of the latter, expressing the hope "that his life, so necessary to the peace of Europe and the maintenance of friendly relations between Germany and Russia, might be long preserved."
After all, the diplomatic joke is not far behind the journalistic in point of piquancy. In the evening a State dinner was given in honor of the anniversary, to which the German Embassy and all the German notabilities were invited. So that when a jest is going about royalty is not much behind brainy people in its practical delivery either. Some how the prandial event was not honored by the presence or the speech of Skoboleff. Probably it would have spoiled it as a diplomatic pleasantry.