The billboard (July-Dec 1898)

> I muster .»«8» SH '*** UPfitA ■It is sometimes advisable to advertise in the large cities before covering la^o™,,.-™ J ^ io ^ n ^ entire sectjon or g^^ j n the attache J list the number of posters can be increased or decreased to suit individual requirements. I will lithograph.in four colors from design subject to your approval, 4,000 24-sheet post- ers, 9* feet high and 20 feet long, on the best ..■MO „S» ..200 ..»»: 100 ...... 100 .....100 ..... SO .. ...25 ...... 75~ 4CHM0D Greater Kew York. 2460600 Greater Chicago...... 7SOJ00B Greater Boetoat ?:_ «OJO0 P<tt»bargb-AUe e heny 400,000 Baltimore ^.-..', 40CLOOO Buffalo .......'..,.... 40MOO Cincinnati.. «U0 000 Cleveland.. 185400 Indianapolis «5jB0O Dallas.... 800000 New Orleans , MyOOO Richmond _ 1S0400 Providence ,.;. -... vs (80400 St. Lo«U 125 400400 MinneapolU-St. Panl 100 KMW Washington....\ 100 XSO0OO San Francisco 100 URMKO UTaahTiUe 25 SBUKO Memphis 30 SBJBOa Chattanooga 25 SttjOOO Louisville. SO 275400 Milwaukee 75 7SV00O Los Annies .-.. 25 17&0QO Kansas City SO ISSJOOO Dearer. 50 aOMQO Detroit. TO «L0OO Grand Rapids 25 eSJWO Portland, Ore. 25 •aOOOPertlsBd.Ue 20 bSJBS Savannah 25 TOvOOO Atlanta. 2S e5&3alt Cake City 25 pUs fj As'-S^". ' ' ft !?3 ! S35onHRI?lPIIB§ 3*150 posters* 70 pound lithographic paper; I wil! post 3,1^0 of them as per schedule, listed, protected, renewed and guaranteed 20 days, all for $12,100.00. When you consider the visitors from the surrounding country, you can safely count on this advertising reaching one-half the adult population of the United States. Take all other methods of advertising that you may care to consider, and figure out the cheapest possible plan for one month's constant publicity, and you will find this the cheapest. ' ; Then consider the prominence and impressiveness of this handsomely lithographed 20-foot sign, and you will agree that this is also the best for the money—or even double the money. 4? Place your entire order with, and leave all the detail work in the hands of the Long-Distance Billposter. § I) $amW. Hoke 251-5 & AVE. /V. IT. COR.2S-" SK NtW YORK. I s Vi THE BILLBOARD Vol. X., No. 12. CINCINNATI, DECEMBER 1, 1898. PRICE; 25 CENTS PER YEAR. 91.00 FARMER NOEL'S DREAM. A Christmas Poem. BY ALLEN E. HARDAUOH. [Written expressly for The Billboard.] 1 had a dream last night, good wife, A vision bright and cleair; I see surprise within your eyes,— You're wondering to hear. I tho't I saw our children all— The way they looked when young: I laughed to see their happy glee, and hear th- songs they sung Just as they used to long ago. Which makes me young again. Lrike days gone by when you and I Were bound with Hymen's chain. Yes, they all were so young and fair— Sweet cherubs from the sky: They romped and played beneath the shade. Remembrance makes me sigh. There's Lewis first—brave soldier-boy. Who lost his good right arm; Dear Aea's a physician now Since leaving the old farm. Sophia's eyes seem very wise,— She is cur eldest elrl; Our Emma, she in industry. And Margaret, a pearl. Our darling Albert's nobly bright, Young ADigail's mv joy; Mayn't Gcd forbid. I'd hug the "Kid"— Sweet Giles, our baoy-boy! My fcur-^ccre yeaTS have fully passed,— 'Twould both- our old hearts cheer To welcome all our children home For Christmas and New-Year. Then I'd put on my Sunday clothes. They've stood some wear and tear; But all folks know that I'm not one They'd call a millionaire. I cleared and sowed, and reaped and hoed,— Used d^f'rent kinds of plows; I raised Rood grain and cropped the hay Which kept a dozen cows. You churned, then spun and wove the cloth; And Irackled out the flax: Dear wife, a help-meet you have been While clothing all our backs. But that was 'way-back long ago In days when the "Old Pike" Was crowded with humanity With ecaches and such like. Tlr?y tho't it best to go out West. God's bletsing crown each head; I'd laugh and cry for joy to see Them at the old homestead. Tears dim my eyes while memories Are passing like the stars: I'll take my cane and Etroll again Down by the pasture bars. • THE FIRST STEP. BY JEANNETTE SWING. ILLUSTRATED BY THB AUTHOR. "You know thnt women folks are given to tantrums." and Mr. Grey chuckled; "you know your mother has 'em. You know you missed the min- strels last week on account of that trick with the salt-cellars. I won't vouch for how your sister will take any nonsense. Women folks are all very much alike, and Christmas is near, boys." "Well, it will all be over before Christmas." said Tom. "And we've got to make up for miss- ing the minstrels last week." added Itobert, "so you won't tell on us. pop?" Then the head of the Grey family chuckled again, and ills sons knew that their conspiracy was conilded in safety. They followed their father out to the gate, dilating on their plan. It was so "ice to have n father who took an in- terest In their pranks, and who some- times even helped them. Fatherly dignity sat heavilv upon Mr. Grey; and when lie felt in duty hound to sny n cautionary word to these twin sons of his. It was usually tormulated In the wise statement that "women folks were given to tan- trums," and they had better watch out for their mother. So on this morning they were not hindered by any parental command, and when their father had taken the car for the city office, his sons made their way up the back stairs, and cau- tiously approached the room given up to the sacred occupancy of Madeline Grey. They both tried to peep through the key-hole at the same time, which set them to giggling "She's not there," finally came in a stage whisper from Tom. "I told you she went down town early this morning," said Rob. "No. you never," replied his brother, good naturedly. And this point being left unargued, they invaded the room. It was not a bed chamber, but the "It is a pitiful shame," said the pret- tier one: for of two women one is al- ways the prettier, "that we can not have perfect liberty in that as well as in everything. Of course I want suf- frage, but reform must not stop there. We want liberty in all things. It is a burning outrage. Madeline, the way we women are restricted. Why, if a man loves a woman, he has a right to tell her so; to show it to the whole world, and is considered more manly for doing so. On the other band, If a woman loves a man, she must act the hypocrite; must pretend that she does not; but assume an indifference; must deny it, and be ashamed of it, even though her heart should break. It.is absurd and wicked." "But it is the way one must do," *'In imagination, she saw him reading fcer epistle to some other woman.* literary study of a lady writer, for Madeline Grey affected to write for the magazines and papers, and had a room set apart for that purpose, where heaven's first law was painfully dis- carded. The boys looked around and sniffed at things contemptuously. "The Superiority of Women." read Tom. from the first page of a manu- script tied together with blue ribbon. "I wonder if that's a story, and how it ends. I bet it Is poky. I wonder why Madeline don't write Indian sto- ries that a fellow'd care to read." "Well, come on." said Robert, "we haven't time to read stories now. any how. even if she could write 'eni. She'll get back before we are done, if you don't help." And then, with incessant giggling, such as children some times carry on. they accomplished their purpose, and retreated just in time to escape being caught by their returning sister. Madeline came up to her study, bringing with her a person who was her particular friend and chum. They had just come from a morning meet- ing of the Woman's Suffrage Club, and were feeling particularly down- trodden. Female grievances had been hotly discussed that morning. said Madeline, with a sigh. "If I were not engaged I would pro- pose to some one this very day. to start the reform. Indeed I would! and let the whole world know it, too," said Carrie. "Would you. really?" asked Made- line, admiringly. "Yes. I would. It would be a noble deed, and others would not then be afraid to follow: and it would soon become customary. Say, Madeline, you are not engaged, you know you are not." "I am not," said Madeline. "And you are in love, too: I have guessed that long ago. Of course you are hiding it from him and evervbodv. as though it were something to be ashamed of. You have never even told me all about it. It is just as Mrs. Morgan said in her lecture last week, many a poor heart is hungering in se- cret, too timid to brave the world's opinion. Madeline, you have been timid. You never would show a man that yon loved him. now. would vou" "I'd rather not," said Madeline", de- murely. "Of course not." and Carrie stood up iu her excitement; "you are a fair sample of woman in' bondage. It is freedom of thought and speech that we want, more than freedom of ac- tion. It is all very well to call us 'queens of the home.* and talk of wo- man's great and noble sphere; but in rca'ity we are treated like puny in- fants, like puppets, like But there, Madeline, you know my views on the subject. I said my sny at the meeting this morning. Now, my dear, I am interested in your individuality. Come, br. confidential, and tell me a*U about it. Maybe I can help you to bring about your own happiness; besides, doing something glorious for your sex. Some one must take the first step, you know." A confidential talk followed, and it was rather hard for Madeline to lay open her heart at first, but Carrie was very much in earnest, and very per- suasive. So Madeline confessed to things that would have rent the hearts of the Suffrage Club, and made them rise un in body to sanction the course Madeline must take, and place a hero's crown upon her devoted head. She had been greatly admired and courted by a certain gentleman. She loved him devotedly, and believed that he returned her affection. They had had a foolish quarrel and separated. A whole year had passed. Madeline had been too reserved to make any advances, although she knew that she had been in the wrong more than he. I* had been about the theater. . He had wanted to take her to see "Cleo- patra." and she had not thought it quite proper to go. "I was such a little prude then. Car- rie." said Madeline, "and I would not overlook his insisting on my going to see that play. Oh. how I have chang- ed and broadened since then. No won- der he—gave me up." and she tried to hide her fast falling tears. "You poor child: how you have suf- fered. I can not scold you. but you have been very foolish. You should have told him afterward that you had changed, and it is not too late now." "Oil. I never could take the first step." declared Madeline. „ , "Indeed: it will be wrong if yon do not. because there are two sides to this matter. Think of how unhappy you have made him." "I hope he has not been as miser- able as I have been." "Of course he has. Your duty is plain. Madeline. He is living in lonelv . solitude, because he was disappointed iu you. and believed you indifferent. Y'ou are lonely and unhappy, because you are afraid to tell him that you have changed, and are not indifferent. Can anything be more idiotic? Why should you not both be happy? You love him and he loves yon. You are wronging him and yourself. Yon are ruining the lives of two people be- cause you will, not act upon the prin- ciple that you have a right: a legal right, a divine right, a social right, a . every other kind of right,.4o do or say anything a man has a right to, do or say. Now, if he cme to you and explained, you would think it proper enough. So will it be just as proper for you to go to him and explain." "Oh, I could never go to him." "Then you can write. And you must write, my dear, this very day," said Carrie, positively. "I shall not leave you until you promise." "Oh. I couldn't," said Madeline. But she did. The letter had been written and given to Tom to mail. It had been tho work of several hours. Madeline al- ways prided herself upon her literary style, and this was a sample of her best. Though "wed to literature," she, like other women, sometimes felt a longing for a pair of mustached lips, a strong hand clasp, and the odor, of cigars. »